


Princess Pansy's Peckish Problems

by cappucakku



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 15th Century, Age Difference, Anal Sex, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Assassination Attempt(s), BDSM, Ball gowns, Beheading, Betrayals, Cheating, Childhood Friends, Drama, F/M, Family, Female Dominance, Fingering, Fluff, Food Sex, Forbidden Romance, Friendship, Horseback Riding, Hurt, Jealousy, Kinky Play, M/M, Master/Servant, Masterbation, Oral Sex, Politics, Romance, Rough Sex, Royalty, Strip Tease, Teenage Pregnancy, War, sword play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 23:31:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13600761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cappucakku/pseuds/cappucakku
Summary: She was by no means hungry. Yes, she has an appetite but, not for food. She’s hungry for people, men in general and love. She thought she found him but, when a far better option came for him, he left her high and dry. Now, no amount of feasting can satisfy her. Not until she laid her eyes on his hypnotic, Sea-Green eyes.





	1. The Royal Flush

               She strode purposely along the posh and sun-lit halls of the Palace of Fontainebleau. Servants bowed their heads respectively and soldiers stationed within the numerous pathways stood stiffly in salute as she passed by. She ignored their formalities and the obvious murmurs for there is of greater matter that she needed clarified. It’s been five months since she began her stay at French Court and she had her fill of politics, backstabbing, deceit, and lust within the short amount of time. Although she might say that it was her first time at Court, she had stayed at the palace as a child for protection from the English who wished to kill her for her country and crown as the next Queen of Scotland. Her parents gave her up to France as collateral for their proposal of marriage in exchange for an alliance.

               Never to back out from a fruitful and serious proposition, King Lucius agreed and after two months of careful preparation, she was taken in by Queen Narcissa and engaged to the next King of France, Crown Prince Draco. As two children of age six, they were the best of friends. They played together, studied together, and been punished together for all the trouble they caused. She never felt alone as she had him by her side but, that was snatched from her when the English plotted to assassinate her. In a desperate attempt to save her, the King and Queen sent her away to a convent where she would remain until it was time for her to marry the Prince.

               The nuns joyously took her in and promised to care for her. For years, she spent her days with the nuns and other girls of different ages. They had been kind and loving to her as they played the part of friend and family to her perfectly but, there is a part of her that misses the French Court, it’s gorgeous halls and lavish celebrations and most importantly, the charming and witty Prince that managed to capture her six-year old heart. Her longing for the young Prince never faded as her love grew stronger. Her feelings for him and memories of her golden childhood were never far from her thoughts, sustaining her hope within the drafty walls of the convent. Her continuous prayers to meet him once again were answered on the day of her sixteenth birthday. The entire convent celebrated her special day by indulging her with her wishes of horseback riding and hunting.

               At the end of the day, the nuns gave her a feast with all of her favourite dishes. The whole afternoon was spent with merriment and dancing but, it all ended in chaos when one of the nuns, Sister Germaine, fell to her death while she took a sip of her freshly-served ale. Mother Martha, the abbess of the convent, whisked her away to safety all the while telling her that the fallen Sister was her poison-taster and that the unfortunate tragedy occurred as an attempt to assassinate her. The incident brought her to return to Court together with her ladies-in-waiting and as soon as she stepped foot on French soil, all of her memories rushed back to her.

               She couldn’t stop the smile blooming on her lips as soon as her Obsidian orbs caught sight of his Platinum-Blonde hair. Her breath hitched as her gaze was met by twin pools of molten Silver and her heart hammered against her chest at the feather-light kiss he bestowed on her knuckles. From that moment on, she would always be found at his side whenever possible and it greatly delighted her that he was still the same amiable boy he was albeit, taller, more muscular, and increasingly passionate. He would be her friend one moment and her lover the next as their attraction bubbled to the surface. Whenever she was within his arms and enveloped in his warmth, her soul, mind, and body would unanimously declare that he is the one. He, in turn, looked at her with so much affection that every soul in the castle wholeheartedly agreed to one thing: their union would be one full of pure love and respect.

               That thought was shattered as soon as she heard of the news. It never crossed her mind that it was true but, it still made her anxious. She went to her beau to confront him about the rumours and it crushed her heart to hear him say it was so. His declaration brought her to seek the King late in the morning. She knew that he was occupied with matters of state and the impending wedding of his eldest daughter, Princess Cassiopeia, to the Crown Prince of Spain, Prince Mathias but, she too, have problems. If the rumours were indeed true then, she would find herself with no home to return to.

               As she reached the heavy doors leading to the throne room, she pushed open the closed entrance, ignoring the panicked cries of the guards and aides stationed outside. Conversations ceased as soon as she walked in, her eyes trained at the Steely-Grey gaze of King Lucius. She stopped at the foot of the dais and bowed with the practiced grace of royalty at the couple sitting regally at their thrones. She returned her gaze at the King, who was looking at her with mild annoyance at her untimely interruption.

“To what do we owe you an audience, Your Highness?” The King inquired with an elegant arch of his pale brow and a wave of hand.

“It has come to my attention that there have been rumours circulating within the castle that my marriage with your son is not taking place. Is it true?” She asked, her jaw set in a hard lock.

               Her question was met with buzzing silence, confirming her fears. She watched with a heavy heart as the King waved his Council away, giving them much needed privacy to discuss such a sensitive matter. With the heavy thud of the door, she was left with the most powerful couple in France. Normally, the thought would have intimidated anyone but, she wasn’t just anyone. She is royalty, a woman with wealth, power, and a country but, as she looked at the King’s unfeeling, superior gaze, she felt as if she was just a girl and it made her feel small. It was a foreign emotion and it terrified her.

“Well? Is it true?” She repeated with more fervor as she tried to bury her trepidation with courage.

“I’m afraid that your fears are correct. Your marriage with Draco will not be taking place.” The melodious voice of Queen Narcissa filled the room as an orchestra would with its exquisite music and soul-searing tune but, it only packed her heart with betrayal and pain.

“Why?” She queried, her voice divulging nothing as to what she was feeling.

“We have received a much more… _pleasing_ offer.” King Lucius expressed, his voice savouring his words as if they were decadent chocolate.

“Isn’t Scotland’s offer not enough?” She spat out through gritted teeth, clenching and unclenching her fists in an effort to keep her rising anger in check.

“Of course it is sufficient, my dear but, King Lucius and I were merely thinking of our people.” Queen Narcissa replied swiftly as she sensed that her husband had a rather unpleasant answer at the tip of his tongue. She felt his eyes on her but, she simply disregarded his gaze. She wanted to discuss the issue with little to no distress.

“And isn’t Scotland’s people _your_ people? Or did you forget about our alliance?” She seethed, her brows furrowing at the middle.

“Our agreement with your parents is to keep you safe from the English but, as you will no longer be in danger, I found it to be in France’s discretion to end our alliance.” The King stated nonchalantly. His ease ticked her to no end and at the same time, confused her as his words caught her interest.

“What do you mean?” She asked warily.

               She saw the Queen glance at the King with anxious eyes and the action made her insides quake with nerves. She has never seen the elegant French Queen apprehensive. If she was being honest, she had never seen the blonde woman show any emotion whenever she’s at Court or whenever they enjoy their afternoon tea together. She concluded that maybe the Queen just didn’t particularly like or dislike her. It wasn’t the worse fate but, it made her feel disheartened. She wanted a mother-figure since she was miles away from her own mother but, the Queen isn’t keen in acting like one towards her. Seeing her shedding a bit of her emotions to her was both surprising and unnerving.

“England proposed an alliance. They demanded that we join forces in the hopes of ending the age-old war between our countries. Both countries suffered loses and deaths in this lifetime. As a ruler, there is nothing more that I want other than my people’s safety and prosperity. If an alliance with England will end bloodshed then, so be it.” The fair-haired King declared, his Grey eyes challenging her wide, Onyx twin pools.

“An alliance with England?! You know how much the English want me dead! How can you agree to such terms?!” She bellowed as her simmering anger exploded to the edge.

“How could I not? I am King. Everything I do is for the sake of France and not for some little girl who can barely stand with her own feet.” He hissed as he rose to his feet.

“You dare mock me but, I am the only one who can _honestly_ help France! Now, you have the audacity to go behind my back, _Scotland’s_ back and form an alliance with our enemy!” She countered, unafraid and unabashed of her actions of talking back to the King.

“They are no longer an enemy and France did _not_ go behind Scotland’s back. Your parents had been notified with the change and they accepted. England is now a friend of France and I _hope_ that you treat them as such.” The King answered with an air of finality.

“My parents know about this?” She breathed out with disbelief dripping on her voice.

“It saddens me that you think so little of our honour. Of course we alerted your parents. If we didn’t, we would have war with your people. Surely, as the next Queen, you wouldn’t want the deaths of your people.” King Lucius sneered at her in obvious distaste.

“I never once thought little of your honour, Your Majesty. My concern merely lies with my parents. I couldn’t begin to fathom as to what made them agree with France’s alliance with England.”

“Can you really think of nothing? Surely, you must know that with France allied with England, both countries _will_ be a force to be reckoned with. I allowed my son to be engaged with you because I saw a great deal of benefit your marriage with him could bring, starting off with your country’s resources and lands. With France at England’s side, conquering Scotland would be easy without the need for marriage. We have you here at Court and Scottish soldiers are sorely lacking. With all the significant variables basically at France’s mercy, don’t you think it’s quite clear as to why your parents agreed?” The fair-haired man inquired, his knuckle moving to cradle his right cheek.

               She had to admit that he was right. Her parents couldn’t afford a war with only the dismal number of soldiers that they have. She also knew that they wouldn’t jeopardize her safety by fighting against France while staving off war with England. If they did, it would be a massacre.

“I admit that you are right but, is that why you broke my engagement with Draco? Because you can see no use of me anymore with England offering you a _better_ alliance?” She choked as a hot lump lodged at her throat, restricting her to breath.

“Yes. There is no point in keeping your engagement with Draco when he’s set to marry the Princess of England.”

               She felt as if the remaining air within her lungs were knocked out by the King’s declaration. His words explained the rumours circling around her like a snake. She should have known but, she trusted the King too much to even think of such a thought. Now that the truth was out in the open, she realized that even though she had been staying at Court for months, she never heard the King announce the date of their wedding. As she was contemplating on that, another thought dawned onto her which broke her heart further.

“I was never to marry him. You only took me back as a security measure in case the alliance with England didn’t follow through.” She breathed out as she stared at the seated royal couple with an affronted expression.

“We did no such thing. We took you back because you nearly died. We made a promise with your parents that we will protect you in any way we can. We did that by sending you to a convent but, it proved to be inadequate as you were still harmed. Your return to Court is another measure to keep you safe. We are upholding our agreement with your parents. Your safety is a priority of ours.” Queen Narcissa explained as she tried to appease her.

“I’ll pretend that I agree with you, Your Majesty but, if I were, indeed, your priority, you would have the mind to tell me about the alliance and the marriage proposal rather than have me hear it from the lips of others. The worst part of this is that Draco knew. He knew the whole time and he never told me. Now, given the situation, is that how I am a priority? Because if so, then, my tutors are sorely mistaken. I would love to know how you define the word ‘ _priority_ ’ as you have such vast knowledge about the matter, Your Majesty.” She retorted, cattily.

“Your tongue ought to be cut out of your mouth and your head detached from your shoulders for your insolence.” The King threatened as his Grey eyes glowered down at her.

“Lucius, enough. There is no need for violence.” The Queen stared at her husband, Sapphire orbs narrowing at the deep scowl marring the King’s face. The couple stared down at one another before the King sighed through his nose. Narcissa smiled triumphantly before schooling her face into an expression much more respectable.

“Pansy, dear, I understand your plights and in all honesty, I do sympathize with your position but, we are royalty. We are chosen by people to lead them. We cannot afford to be selfish as they are our main priority. You, as a Princess, must know this. I concur the way we handled this situation is deplorable but, I must beseech you to find it in your heart to understand why we kept this as a secret.” The blonde woman pleaded as she elegantly made her way to her and enveloped her hands within hers.

               She stared at the brilliant, Blue eyes of the poised, older woman in front of her, expecting her to shed no warm emotion but, was once again surprised to find comfort and a hint of regret swimming in her eyes. It made her anger dissipate a little but, her confusion was still simmering to spill over.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty but, I can’t find it in my heart to accept your sincere apology as long as I don’t know the exact reason for your secrecy.” She exclaimed, extracting her hands from the elder woman’s grip and stepped away from the Queen.

               Her actions brought about a grim frown to paint over the blonde woman’s lips and a sneer from the seated King. Narcissa turned to face her husband, who was eyeing the young woman with apparent dismay.

“Very well then. To ease your troubled mind, it was my son who asked for secrecy. As you know, I am King and it’s not in my nature to keep such news of great importance to myself. I make it a habit to inform my most loyal subjects and my people of my actions to avoid conflicts that would hinder my governing of my state. I assumed that the reason why he asked me of my silence is because he wanted to be the one to break the news to you. Unfortunately, it would seem that the rumours worked its way to you before he even could.” Lucius drawled, a slow, amused smile drawing up to his lips and she unconsciously gasped at the King’s confession.

“He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t keep secrets from me.” She proclaimed, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from tearing up.

“Oh? You wouldn’t be here now if he wasn’t keeping secrets from you.” The King countered as he waved a hand at her direction.

               Pansy found herself tongue-tied. Hearing the King’s words pierced through her breaking heart. She discovered that her supposed allies broke her country’s agreement in exchange for another with the country that desired her crown for years and the man she has loved all her life has lied to her. She knew that Court is a massive game of chess. She thought that she played rather well and in control but, one move she never anticipated changed the entire course of her game and she found herself at the bottom, tipping over the edge as she waited for the final blow.

               Unable to keep her calm under the callous eyes of the King, she swept out of the room, completely overlooking her manners as she rushed to break out of the oppressive company and heartless stares of the two royals. She pushed open the door, startling the old men who were part of the King’s Council, the aides, and the soldiers. She swept past them, giving them no time to give their respects. Her actions caused those within the vicinity to burst into a flurry of whispers. In no time, twice the number of rumours was floating around the castle. Coupled by the haunting words of the King, it was more than enough to drive her up against a corner.

               Feeling the cool surface of the wall seeping through the layers of her clothing relieved her of any distress as she soaked above the icy sensation, chilling her heated skin. The magic soon wore off and she was, once again, lost within the maze of thoughts in her mind. It didn’t do anything good for her sanity as she was on the brink of breaking down. In an effort to save herself from her own mind, she pushed off the slowly warming wall and went to search for the one person who can give her concrete answers to her problem, Draco.

               She walked on halls, alleys, rooms, and the gardens to find him but, her search has been futile as she found no shadow of him. After an hour of parading in and out of the palace, she dejectedly returned back to her chamber only to find her fair Prince waiting for her. Delighted, she walked in until she stood behind him and slowly, she gathered him within her arms, breathing in his intoxicating scent of ambroxan, pepper, and bergamot.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” She stated, her voice a bit muffled by his clothes.

“I heard you went to talk with my Father.” He replied, untangling himself from her arms in order to face her. Upon hearing his words, she remembered her conversation with the King, pulling her lips into a tight line.

“Yes, I did. I asked him a great deal of things and after our discussion, I found out something of immense interest.” She said, her Onyx eyes boring into his Silver orbs.

“Would you mind sharing?” He asked.

               Pansy stared at him, searching for any hint of alarm or recognition but, found none. The duration of her stay at French Court made her realize many things and one of those is that the Prince can be as cold and unfeeling as his royal parents. As she stood before him, he isn’t the boy she used to know and he isn’t the man she has come to love. He is the next King of France as he loomed above her with an unflinching gaze and a confident stance. He is a man in the guise of the man she loves, a man she hardly knew.

“You knew all along. You knew about the alliance with England and you never told me.” She answered, her voice turning cold and her eyes turning as dark as a starless night.

“It’s not that simple.” Draco defended, stepping closer to her and as he moved, a lock of his fine, Platinum-Blonde hair falling above his eyes and Pansy had to control herself from reaching over his face and brush the stray lock from his eyes.

“Not that simple? What’s not that simple?! You only have to tell me! Was that so difficult?!” She cried with vehemence as her vision blurred from her unshed tears.

“Yes! It was difficult, Pansy! It was tough to tell you that we will not be marrying each other when you were smiling so brightly. I don’t want to be the one to squash your happiness by telling you the dreadful news.” He reasoned.

“If you didn’t want to ruin my happiness then, you should have let the King tell me. I would rather have him tell me than hear it from other people. You have no idea how much it pains me to listen to them whisper behind my back about matters that I have no knowledge of and what’s worse, you knew about it and you never explained it to me!” Pansy countered, jabbing her finger on his chest.

“You never let me! You left before I could even do so!” He excused as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to his chest.

“You could have chased after me! You knew where I was going! Instead, you let me humiliate myself in front of your parents so that you wouldn’t be the subject of their contempt! You treat me as if I am not your fiancée!” She fumed hotly, watching with blazing eyes as the blonde boy lowered his eyes.

               Her jaw slacked and her body grew cold at the sight of the sheepish Prince. She wretched her wrist away from his grasp and backed away from him with a disheartened expression.

“You were merely playing with me. You never wanted me. You don’t want this at all.” She whispered softly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“No, that’s not true! I do want this! I want _us_!” Draco exclaimed, moving to stand in front of her but, she folded inside herself as she shook her head, effectively stopping him.

“Don’t lie anymore, Draco. If you wanted this, if you wanted _us_ , you would have fought for us. If this was what you wanted, Scotland would still be France’s ally and I would still be your fiancée but, this isn’t what you wanted. It’s what I want but, clearly, this isn’t for you so, stop pretending you love me because that is the worst pain you can ever give to me.” She expressed as each word broke what was left of her heart.

               She slipped out of her chamber, leaving him alone and giving herself an ample amount of time to pour out her trampled feelings. She would allow herself to mourn for her love, for her broken trust, and for her lost innocence. She would forgive herself for permitting others to take advantage of her. She would grant herself a moment of peace before returning back and when she did, she would no longer be the same royalty she was. They will see how ruthless she can be. They will witness how cunning she is. They will cower at her feet as she stood above all of them as their Queen.


	2. The Consummation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spicy stuff up ahead. You have been warned. Lol.

               Pansy laughed at whatever drivel Count Yaxley has said. The tasteless man was obviously inebriated and the wedding reception hasn’t reached its peak. She painfully endured her boredom as she was odiously forced to engage in a one-sided conversation with the egotistic and proud man but, she was glad of the distraction it brought. He was the perfect barricade in case the fair-haired French Prince came to occupy her. Two months has passed since she broke off all relations with the dashing Prince and she made it her life’s goal to avoid him. When eluding him is not possible which was frequent, she would act as normal as she could.

               Life at French Court became exceedingly difficult as every female within the vicinity offered her their pity, eyes reflecting their sympathies as she strode past them. It angered her to no end as they act as if she was made of porcelain or her mother just died. Of course, she would give them no satisfaction of showing them her true feelings but, no one seemed to mind if she was mildly scathing or provoking. She enjoyed conversing with the other ladies, who were clearly _not_ pitying her, at Court as it gave her a different train of thought as well as provided her with plentiful of entertainment. She let them teach her their individual crafts and advised her to add her own flair.

               She took their teachings at heart and in less than a day after she had her lesson with them, she was barely the same girl that they’ve known five months ago. She wore her heartbreak well as she strutted down the halls with the latest Parisian fashion she spiced up with her own alterations made by the best of Parisian designers that France has to offer.  She wore the most exquisite cosmetics freshly-shipped from Italy, decked her neck, ears, fingers with the finest diamonds and pearls Asia has to offer, and sported a perfume she crafted herself. She took walks around Paris, flaunting her superior grace and posh countenance which was met with envious stares and appreciative looks as she strolled down the busy streets of the grand city.

               Her daily excursion outside the palace walls would merit her a cold, uncaring gaze from the King and an affronted sneer from the Queen. At first, their reactions to her rebellious attitude grated on her nerves but, once she had gotten used to her new lifestyle, she simply dismissed their unwanted attention. If they could overlook their son’s habitual disappearance then, her daily ventures in the city should be the least of their concerns. After all, she was unbound to them. She was more or less free to do whatever she pleases.

               Due to her lack of _decorum_ , the Queen found it her duty to inform of her parents about her displeasing attitude. They arrived in France just shy of a week before Princess Cassiopeia’s wedding and apologized to the French royalty about her unpleasant behaviour. Being the _benevolent_ rulers they are, King Lucius and Queen Narcissa forgave her for her faults and invited her parents as a peace offering. Scotland’s monarch readily agreed and the tense affair ended with a flourish. Within the privacy of her chambers, her parents regaled to her about their spiteful feelings for the blonde couple. Even if they accepted France’s alliance with England, they still felt insulted and neglected by the swift allegiance of France to England.

               During the assembly with her parents and the current monarch of France, it was agreed upon that she be allowed to stay at French Court provided they assist her in scouting for a husband to bring home in exchange for Scotland to supply France with timber. It was a fair trade for both parties to which the royals signed upon as a new arrangement. Unbeknownst to the King and Queen of France, her parents’ proposition was merely a front in order for her to extract her revenge for the humiliation done by France. She unequivocally supported her parents’ decision and promised them to bring France to its ruin. Now, standing in front of one of the most influential men in the entirety of France and smiling insipidly at his awful jokes, Pansy realized that bringing France to its knees might be as simple as taking a candy from a baby if all men fall to her feet after a harmless chat.

               Growing tired of listening to the Count’s foolish and highly-fictional tales, she let her eyes wander around the Grand Ballroom in search for her next target. She highly doubt that the Count would even notice that she wasn’t paying attention as he seemed to be absorbed talking to himself, singing praises to his magnificence and unmistakable masculinity. She was disappointed to see that most of France’s aristocrats were either occupied by foreign dignitaries or intoxicated after too many glasses of wine. She inwardly fumed at her luck of having the misfortune of being stuck with the Count. She only has herself to blame as she singled him out amongst the many others that were dying to have an audience with her.

               Only when she was conversing with the Count did she realize her mistake and remember the innumerable warnings the other ladies at Court told her regarding the Count. After spending a night within the oppressive company of the narcissistic man, she wanted nothing more than to retire to her bedchambers and have a much required sleep. She stood up from her seat and placed down her goblet as she sneaked away from the table she occupied with the Count. She eyed him carefully, in case he notices that she was missing but, being the self-involved man that he is, he barely noticed her absence and Pansy skipped away hurriedly, passing through the throng of people banding with one another and weaving out of the way of dancing couples.

               Obscured from the rest of the crowd, she leaned against the cool surface of the pillar, sighing contently as she was finally free from the endless and mindless chatter of the Count. She could barely remember anything from their conversation and given her dislike for the man, she could care less.

“ _Notte dura_?” (Rough night?) A voice – deep, masculine, and alluring – asked with a heavy Italian accent spicing up his equally spicy voice as soft footsteps padded towards her, stopping abruptly inches beside her and she could feel the heat rolling off the body of the stranger.

               Her head wheeled at him not because of his sudden appearance but, because of his sweet scent, the smell of aromatic woods with citrus notes, wafted to her nose with its sophisticated and seductive fragrance. Her eyes were met with Golden-Brown eyes, sparkling against the candlelight like stars. He had an angular face, the sharp edges softened by the smile playing on his full lips. His dark skin, as rich as chocolate, matched perfectly with his Maroon and White Italian frippery. On his finger, a signet ring with a crest she identified as the symbol of the Italian royal family sat proudly, indicating that the man before her is royalty. As if reading her thoughts, the man chuckled at her, his laughter opulent and husky, bringing delightful shivers down her spine.

“ _Perdona la mia maleducazione, Principessa_. I am Blaise Zabini, Crown Prince of the Italian throne.” (Forgive my rudeness, Princess. I am Blaise Zabini, Crown Prince of the Italian throne.) He exclaimed, bowing at her before taking her hand and laid a butterfly kiss upon her skin, his bright, Golden eyes focused on her.

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I am Pansy Parkinson, Scotland’s future Queen.” She introduced, her head dipping to a bow. She noticed that the Italian Prince hasn’t relinquished his hold on her hand and she felt her lips twitch in amusement.

“I heard rumours about your beauty. I must say, the rumours didn’t give you enough justice. You are much more beautiful than they give you credit for.” He declared. She blushed at his words and once again, he chuckled at her, summoning a flurry of fireflies to flutter inside her belly.

“You flatter me, Prince. I do not understand as to how I earned such praise.” She said, meekly, gazing at him beneath her lush lashes.

“I do not flatter. I merely speak the truth. _Sei una bellezza da vedere_.” (I do not flatter. I merely speak the truth. You are a beauty to behold.) The Prince professed as he bestowed yet another kiss upon her knuckles although, this time, his lips seemed to have lingered. He finally released her hand from his grip but, not before caressing the inside of her wrist with his finger, jolting her with bolts of pleasurable shudders.

“I know when to declare defeat in a battle. Considering you are relentless with your claim, I hereby announce my loss.” She stated, playfully, her Obsidian orbs dancing with glee.

“Such an early admittance, even for you. I suppose that’s the effect that I have for most people.” He boasted with a grin. She laughed at his ego.

“Are you always this confident?” She asked, her tone genuinely curious.

“Oh, I can assure you that I am nervous. I have been waiting for two hours for you. I saw that Count Yaxley had you engaged and it is not in my character to intrude in people’s conversation.” He admitted, making her stare at him in disbelief.

“You…were waiting…for me.” She repeated unevenly, her lips parted at the incredulity of the statement.

“Truly. I was watching you the entire time. I wanted an audience with you but, unfortunately, you ignored most of the people and headed for the Count. I must say in confidence with you that as conversation partners go, the Count is absolutely the worst and as a concerned party, I must impress upon you that you choose your dialogue companions wisely.” He advised with an elegant tilt of his head and a smile on his face. His words woke her up from her shocked stupor and made her smirk wickedly.

“I must confess, I admit that the Count is the worst choice but, in the seven months that I have been at Court, I have never spoken to the man. He’s been away from a voyage permitted by the King and he returned yesterday afternoon. After a long absence at Court, the King decided it was wise to invite him to Princess Cassiopeia’s wedding in order to celebrate his successful expedition and to be re-acquainted with friends. I aligned myself with him since it is to be expected with a royal and as I am a royal, I merely upheld my duty. As for the other matter, I thank you for your concern but, I can choose sensibly. In the span of my stay here, I have learned and _re_ -learned the ways to life at Court. If you are still concerned, how about you teach me?” She inquired, her voice melting into a seductive whisper as she slowly moved closer to him until her lips were inches from his own.

               Eyes on his tempting lips, Pansy felt her tongue dart out of her mouth, moistening her dry lips. She felt his large hand slip at her side, gradually closing the gap between them. Her eyes drifted to a close as she felt his breath on her lips. Her body hummed in excitement as the silky surface of his lips grazed against hers.

“Pansy!” A familiar voice called amidst the cacophony of sounds.

               The young woman jumped in surprise upon hearing the call of her friend. She looked behind her and beyond the cover of the darkness and secrecy of the pillar to see her four ladies-in-waiting searching for her among the sea of people.

“It seems like you are needed, Your Highness.” He stated, looking at the four ladies wading through the party.

               Turning back, she saw the Italian Prince staring at her with an indulgent expression and disappointment settled down in her chest.

“Yes, it would seem so. I would not linger longer. I would hate to make my ladies search for me any longer. I shall make my leave, Your Grace. It’s been a pleasure to speak with you.” She replied, conversationally, covering her dismay with a sweet smile. She bowed at him and made her way to her friends, who spotted her, when she felt a hand envelop her wrist.

               Looking down, she saw the rich, chocolate skin of her previous companion. Raising her head to question his actions, she bit down the inquiry on her lips as he stepped closer to her and leaned down to whisper at her ear.

“Don’t feel upset, Pansy. I’m a _concerned_ party more than willing to teach you. I will see you again.” He murmured, hotly and huskily.

               Before pulling away, he licked her earlobe and she sucked in her breath at his gesture. He stepped back and watched as her face redden, smirking at his effect on her. The Prince offered her a wink before strolling away, leaving her in a state of chaos as her mind battled against her desire for the debonair Italian and the company of her ladies-in-waiting.

“What were you doing with Prince Blaise?” A soft voice inquired from behind her, joggling her out of her musings.

               Spinning on her heel, her friends, who were her ladies-in-waiting as well, appeared before her and looked at her questioningly.

“Oh, we were just talking. He saved me from a rather dull conversation with Count Yaxley.” She replied, smiling innocently at the blonde girl.

“That didn’t look as if you were _just_ talking.” She retorted, her neat brows arching elegantly.

“Whatever do you mean, Daphne?” She questioned.

“Don’t pretend, Pansy. We saw you hidden behind the pillar.” She answered, gesturing at the pillar that she and the Prince hid behind moments ago.

“He looked as if he was about to kiss you, too. Not that you were complaining.” A girl, with the same Sapphire eyes as Daphne, intoned.

“Dear Lord, what sort of thoughts has been running in your mind, Astoria? You and Daphne have the same train of thought. Is that an in-born talent of siblings or does it only manifest on both of you?” Pansy mockingly quizzed, her face morphing into a mask of cool irritation.

“Calm down. We’re just concerned about you. It would be to your utmost discretion that you remain as mere acquaintances with Prince Blaise. There are a lot of horrible rumours about him.” The soothing voice of Gemma Farley explained, shooting the siblings a warning glare to which they returned with a simmering huff.

“ **There are rumours about _all_ royals**.” She retorted.

“He has a reputation for…his tryst with women.” A timid voice piped in as her eyes darted to and fro, afraid that the said man was listening.

“Tell me, Tracy, which royal doesn’t have _tête-à-têtes_ with women?” Pansy challenged, sneering at her petite lady-in-waiting.

“We all know the answer to that but, what Tracy meant was you ought to be careful. The Prince is notorious for his wicked ways. Once he grew uninterested, he will leave you.” Gemma lectured, grabbing her hands and wrapped them in a tight squeeze.

“Let me ask again. Which royal doesn’t do that?”

“You do _not_ understand. He’s been with more women than most of the royals combined. Who’s to know if he hasn’t impregnated any of the women he’s been with? As the future Queen of Scotland, you can’t afford to get tangled in his business. Any child he bears will be labelled as a bastard as he himself is a bastard. It doesn’t matter if he marries a noble lady or a Princess. He is still a bastard son of the King.” Daphne responded in a low voice, her Blue eyes turning icy and jagged.

“Well, he’s been legitimized.” Astoria exclaimed, earning a harsh glare from her elder sister to which she smiled brightly.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s been legitimized. Most of the Italian nobles and the King’s Privy Council are against him. They all support Prince Nicolo, the Queen’s son to the King. The only reason why Prince Blaise was claimed and legitimized was because of Prince Nicolo’s poor health. If he wasn’t unfit, he would be the one inheriting the throne of Italy. With so many against him, his claim to the throne would be tumulus. Even if you were to be engaged with him, the Italians would still be against him as long as he’s the one claiming the throne.” The blonde girl elucidated.

“Why do you talk as if I would marry him? I was merely talking to him.” Pansy defended herself, a frown marring her unblemished face.

“We know you. You don’t talk to people unless they piqued your interest or you are forced to do so. I don’t think you were forced to talk to him considering he was well within your personal space so, I could only conclude that he managed to stir your curiosity with whatever charms he used.” Astoria specified with a tip of her head.

“In essence, we just want you to be cautious. It would not do you well if you remain in contact with him. Remember, we managed to stay here due to your parents’ new arrangement with the King and Queen. You don’t want to fall out of their graces if you cavort with the Prince. Your relationships are filtered by the King. If he dislikes the man requesting for your hand even if you happen to like him, your relationship will end. Given the fact that the Prince hasn’t asked for your hand and is already making his move, the King will undoubtedly dismiss him. Pansy, have some restraint. I know this is an especially difficult time for you but, this is not the best time to do something rash.” Gemma pleaded, the grip on her hand tightening at her obvious fear for her tendency for recklessness.

               Watching her friends’ anxious expressions, she sighed and nodded her head in agreement. Upon seeing her surrender, they smiled at her, grateful that she heeded their words.

“Now that is over and done with, I would like for all of us to go dancing.” She exclaimed with a wide smile to which her friends responded with a smile of their own.

               Immediately, the group took off their shoes and went to the middle of the ballroom, where couples danced to the beat. Hand-in-hand, the five friends spun around the dance floor, their laughter bouncing off the walls and filling the room with their melodious giggles coupled with the upbeat music. Spectators joyously joined their number and soon, she was dancing in the center with people she barely knew but, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was enjoying the night even if it started horrendously. The orchestra ended the song with a flourish and feathers fell from the ceiling, raining upon them like snow. Upon seeing the White plumes, she remembered a time long ago when she was six. She used to play pillow fights with Draco and it would end up with them covered in feathers.

               On impulse, Pansy sought him out amongst the crowd and spotted him staring back at her. Her bare feet moved with a mind of its own only stopping when she felt a hand on her elbow and breathy giggles.

“Look! Princess Cassiopeia and Prince Mathias are leaving!” Tracy squealed in excitement, a stark difference with her reticent voice earlier.

“ **It’s time for the consummation, the ritual, the mystery. Aren’t you curious?** ” Astoria asked, her body leaning towards her as she spoke but, she wasn’t listening.

               Her attention was focused on the fair-haired Prince who plagued her dreams at night, keeping her awake until the wee hours of the morning thinking about what could have been. She wanted to talk to him, to clarify the problem between them but, her pride wouldn’t allow her to do so. Now, standing in the middle of the dance floor, she wanted nothing more but, to listen to what he might have to say. The moment never came as she was whisked away by her four friends, animatedly chattering and giggling about the consummation to take place.

               They half-ran, half-walked along the halls of the palace all the while excitedly babbling about what to expect. They schooled their expressions into a far more respectable façade whenever they would pass by a noble or servant before bursting into fits of laughter. They finally reached the corridor leading to the designated room where the consummation was to be held. The five hurried in their steps but, vigilantly padded through in order to avoid being caught. They reached the chamber and squeezed their bodies into a narrow corner possessing a small, barred window. Astoria shoved the curtain away, revealing to them Princess Cassiopeia preparing with the help of her ladies-in-waiting. By the side were the clergymen and the King’s chosen noble audience to witness the ceremony.

“I still can’t believe that they actually watch them… _you know_ …” Tracy quietly exclaimed, her Hazel eyes tinted with hesitation.

“I thought you wanted to watch, Tracy. Getting cold feet, are we?” Astoria teased.

“Shh! Keep it down! We’ll get caught!” Daphne hissed with an icy glare.

“Shut it. The Prince is arriving.” Gemma announced, pressing herself further into the cover of the darkness to avoid detection.

               The five held their breath as the Prince and his aids went inside the room. The people inside bowed at the Spanish Prince and as soon as he entered, the clergymen began to move their hands to perform the Sign of the Cross and uttered a prayer. Their voices were low and haunting which seemed highly incompatible with the mood. She wasn’t the only one who thought so as Cassiopeia looked at them with tense eyes. Her attention was diverted from them when Mathias grabbed her head between his hands and whispered to her words of comfort before bestowing her a soft smile. Dropping one hand to snake around her waist, the Prince swooped down her lips and placed a chaste kiss upon her. As if a flame has been ignited between them, the Princess responded by kissing him with fervor.

               The wedded couple tumbled down in bed where they continued to give into their passion and love. Moans and groans of pleasure resounded around them as the couple’s desire for one another reached its peak. Pansy felt her eyes prick at the beauty and purity of the ceremony. At first, it appalled her to have people watch her as she made love with her husband but, now that she saw it, she realized it was another proof she can present to God that she loved no one else greater than she love her husband. She thought of Draco and imagined what would have been like to consummate their marriage under the watchful eye of the clergy.

               Surely, she would have been nervous and tense as Cassiopeia was but, like Mathias, Draco would have quelled her fears with a smile. He would have kissed her with the enthusiasm she came to know and desire. He would have caressed her skin lovingly and ardently, making her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world but, that didn’t apply to them anymore. He was set to marry England’s Princess in months’ time and she was doomed to witness it all. Disliking the train of her thoughts, she pushed herself off the ledge and turned to her friends.

“Let’s go.”

               Not caring whether the four females followed her out of the corner, Pansy walked out of the dark corner and into the light. Turning to her back, she saw her friends sporting differing shades of blush in their faces and realized that they have problems to take care of.

“Go. Go wherever you want.” She ordered.

               Even before she could finish her words, the four girls run off, sprinting wherever they wish and to whomever they want. Mimicking their actions, she hastily made way for her chambers to cure her frustrations and to turn in for the night when a hand darted out from a hidden junction just a few meters away from the corner they emerged from. She gasped in shock at the sudden attack and at the feel of the rock-hard chest pillowing her back.

“ _Bisogno di risparmiare_?” (In need of saving?) He asked, gruffly and enticing, as rougish arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer into his chiselled chest, the smell of aromatic woods with citrus notes invaded her senses with its sophisticated and seductive scent.

“ _Non sono una damigella in pericolo, ma apprezzo il pensiero_.” (I’m no damsel in distress but, I appreciate the thought.) She replied as her body unconsciously leaned further against the delicious figure of her new companion, her mind screaming at her to stop, the words of her friends surfacing to the forefront.

“ _Se non lo sei allora, cosa ti rende, Principessa_?” (If you aren't then, what does make you, Princess?) He whispered against her ear, his breath hot against her skin and his lips ghosting at the soft flesh of her ear.

“ _Il tuo sogno più selvaggio e il tuo più grande incubo_.” (Your wildest dream and your biggest nightmare.) She answered breathily as his large hand travelled from her navel and brushed against the underside of her breast which elicited a sinful moan from her.

“ _Mi trovo d'accordo con le tue parole, Vostra Grazia_.” (I find myself agreeing with your words, Your Grace.) He purred, his lips nibbling at the shell of her ear as his fingers deftly caressed the smooth flesh of her neck.

               Throwing caution to the wind, she whirled around and pulled him into a searing kiss. She gasped as she felt his erection at her stomach and heat rushed between her legs. She licked his lips, her tongue grazing the soft flesh of his mouth and the Prince eagerly opened his mouth to her, letting her take charge of their lips’ frenzied dance. She fought against him for dominance but, as he coaxed her tongue to swirl with his as he leisurely explored the inside of her mouth with his deft caress, she found herself melting into his arms, gripping at his arms for support as she felt her knees turning wobbly.

               Seemingly aware of her dilemma, the Prince hoisted her up and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he continued to kiss her senseless within the dim darkness. She felt exhilarated at her exploits with the Italian Prince, inciting more of her passion as she moaned against his lips at the sheer touch of his tongue upon her own. Taking her sighs of pleasure as a signal, he dipped his head to her neck, licking and nipping at her milky flesh, lavishing every inch with the attention of his silky lips. She gasped as his hand skimmed over the fabric containing her chest and her nipples hardened into pebbles at his warm touch. She urged him further by placing a hand on his neck, directing him to where she wanted his lust at.

               He allowed her to guide him and she groaned in ecstasy as he kissed his way down her swelling mounds of flesh. He slowly licked the exposed skin of her chest before tugging down the fabric encasing her breasts with his teeth. She sighed in relief at the feel of liberation but, it soon turned into a mewl of pleasure as she felt hot kisses pressed upon her soft skin. Unconsciously, her back arched, bringing her body closer to his skilful lips. Her eyes fluttered close when he sucked on her breast, lapping up on the pebbled peak like candy.

               She lost all reason and mindfulness to her surroundings when she felt his hand trailing up her leg under her dress. He caressed the smooth surface of her skin with strong hands and she felt more desire build up in her stomach. His thumb glided to her inner thigh and her heart drummed beneath her chest in anticipation. Her eyes flew open when she felt fingers caressing the throbbing flesh underneath her silk underwear. She heard the soft chuckle of the Prince and she looked down at him to see him teasingly bite his lips with his teeth. She felt her lust for him spike higher and she ground her hips against his, making him hiss.

“ _Dimmi. Dimmi cosa vuoi. Dimmelo e te lo darò_.” (Tell me. Tell me what you want. Tell me and I'll give it to you.) He said, hotly and huskily as he inched closer to her until she can taste his breath on her lips.

               Moving her hands to his chest, she pulled him to her lips and she kissed him with fervor, her teeth imprisoning his lips as she nibbled at the puffy flesh. She trailed her lips down his jaw, planting breathy kisses on her path as she made her way to his ear. She bit his auricle and she revelled in the grunt he made.

“ _Stammi su. Messmici bene. Prendimi_.” (Stir me up. Mess me good. Take me.) She murmured, heady with lust as she licked his earlobe, tantalizingly.

               At her ministration, he growled primitively before grabbing her face with two hands and crashing his lips against hers. This time, their kiss was fuelled with greed and the need for release as their seduction with one another exploded to the surface. His hands trailed down her body, leaving behind a line of heat on her body, making her breathless and raging with hunger. She whimpered against his lips as his hands dipped between her legs, shoving aside the wet and thin fabric separating his skin from her heated core. He tugged on her crisp hairs and she shuddered in delight at the mild pain and pleasure it showered her body. His thumb swiped her clitoris and her hips instinctively bucked under his hand.

               He laughed at her eagerness, the vibrations transferring to her, quaking her insides and intensifying her arousal. She squeezed his shoulders in an attempt to hurry him but, her worries evaporated as quickly as they came when his fingers slid inside her wet nether lips. She gasped at his warmth, her head thrown back in pleasure. She felt him move, his lips mercilessly kissing her throat as his fingers pumped in and out of her core, the tips curling as he nudged her walls. Her eyes flew open and she screamed, unconcerned whether someone heard, as he twisted his fingers and scraped his fingertips at her pulsing sugar walls.

               Her reaction prompted him to continue with his actions a few more times he coupled with a caress of her exposed breast with his tongue. Feeling she was nearing her climax, the Prince pumped his fingers faster, his thumb massaging her clit awfully slowly to help her build her release faster. As her walls tightened, her hands clutched at his shoulders tighter, nails digging deliciously on her back. He pulled her head into his free hand and sealed her lips with his own as she came, her warm juices flowing on his palm. He pulled away to watch her face, flushed and glowing from the smile splayed on her lips. She breathed out heavily as she calmed herself from her high and after recovering her breath, she gazed at him with a dazed expression.

“Do that again.” She exclaimed and the Prince gave her a slow, lazy smile to which she returned with a grin of her own.

“Perhaps somewhere with a bed, _Principessa_. I haven’t seen all of you yet.” He replied with a saucy wink.

“How about we find someplace where you can see all of me and I, you?” She asked, her arms tugging him closer to her as she kissed his chin.

“ _Concordato._ _Ci sono molte altre cose che voglio insegnarti._ ” (Agreed. There are plenty more that I want to teach you.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Italian words here are translated using Google Translate so, if there are errors, don't hate me. I tried my best. The bold dialogue of Pansy came from Reign Season 1 Episode 4: Hearts and Minds. Then, Astoria's dialogue came from Reign Season 1 Episode 1: Pilot. It was Kenna who said that during the wedding ceremony of Princess Elizabeth and Prince Phillip (Holy shit, I remember even the episode titles!!). It's not mine (I can only wish, *sighs). Anyway, wew! That was intense! Lol. I had the best time writing this because I found it funny that Blaise and Pansy were already flirting with one another when they barely met! But, I don't think that that particular scene doesn't happen in real life. So, tell me what you guys think! Give me all your reviews and kudos!
> 
> Love, love, love,  
> cappucakku


	3. All's Fair in Love and War

“It’s your turn, Astoria.  **Tell us, not your first but, your best kiss**.” Pansy said, reclining back on her elbows as she eyed the Blue-eyed brunette smiling widely.

“ **Well, it was with a boy…No, a man-** ”

“ **A man? Who? You must tell us**.” Daphne cajoled, her Sapphire eyes bulging out of its sockets at her sister’s confession.

               With the sun shining merrily, the five girls decided to have an outdoor picnic while they enjoyed nature’s grace. They laid a thick, patterned fabric and sat on cushion pillows by the lake’s edge and under the cool shade of a lush tree. Sweets and treats occupied the center of their party, diminishing as minutes ticked by and conversation flowed. Even after seven months that they’ve been together, they still have plenty of things to discuss and gossip about. This time, it was a topic that Pansy has been dying to know given the status of her purity and innocence.

               After her tryst with Blaise the night of Princess Cassiopeia and Prince Mathias’ consummation, she sneaked about the darkened corners and secret passages in the arms of the Italian Prince as they gave into their sizzling passion and lust. Every night, he would show her pleasures she had never known, making her body sing in ecstasy. In the week she had known Blaise, her feelings of attraction for the Prince simmered to the surface, making it difficult for her to endure her urge for the dashing Italian. Delighted to know that she was not the only one with such desire, they risked spending time with one another during the day, at times riding out of the castle for a much needed privacy and sexual adventure.

               She used to spend outdoor activities with Draco which was enjoyable as they were pleasurable but, it was nothing compared to what she felt with Blaise. The allure of the forbidden, the taste of the sweet nectar of wickedness thrilled her to no end and it made her yearning to be with the Italian that much stronger and wilder. She wished to tell her friends about her exploits with Blaise but, she knew their disapproval of him and thus, she settled with hiding her secrets and making do with the few truths that she could tell them. It made her feel guilty but, as much as she knew her friends, they, too, are harbouring secrets of their own and she would oblige them the same privilege as they unconsciously did with her.

“It matters not who. He knows what he’s doing and I realized that I would rather risk it with someone older rather wait for the boys our age _or_ **take care of your needs yourself**.” Astoria replied with a mysterious smile playing on her lips.

               Her words were met with tickled giggles and wild speculations about the identity of the brunette’s mystery man.

“I bet it’s that merchant back home. He kept glancing at you furtively whenever we venture at the market.” Her sister teased, bumping her shoulder on Astoria’s upper arm.

               The girls guffawed as they remembered the stout and putrid dealer crushing on the stunning brunette. Pansy, being sent to a convent for the remainder of her childhood and most of her teenage years, merely smiled in hilarity at her friends’ harassment on the youngest female in their group.

“Oh, shut it. I’d rather die than have relations with that man.” Astoria spat, scowling at her friends’ expressions.

“Alright. We’ll let it go. But, we’ll just ask you again tomorrow.” Gemma stated, her Auburn-Brown hair swaying with the wind as a soft breeze blew at their place by the lake within the palace.

               Astoria threw a berry at Gemma’s direction and the Auburn-Brown haired girl ducked behind Tracy’s back causing the fruit to hit the innocent girl square in the face. Daphne burst out in a fit of laughter while Tracy sputtered in shock and Gemma snickered.

“I’m so sorry, Tracy! I didn’t mean to hit you! I was aiming for Gemma!” The brunette exclaimed with a remorseful mien splashed on her face. 

“Don’t worry about it, Ria. I won’t comment about your poor aim or your excuses but, I won’t mind it if you join me for revenge.” Tracy exclaimed in a sing-song voice as she shared a conspiratorial smirk with the brunette.

               Upon seeing the mischievous grins splayed on her friends’ faces, Gemma shrieked and jumped up, breaking into a run as the two girls chased after her, all the while laughing and yelling obscenities unfitting for ladies of their station. The remaining duo, Daphne and Pansy, chortled merrily as the Auburn-Brown haired female tripped on the hem of her dress and went sprawling to the ground. Astoria and Tracy, seeing an opportunity to extract their revenge on the fallen girl, immediately pounce on her and tickled her mercilessly. Fits of hysterics filled the clearing as Gemma giggled uncontrollably under the rush of fingers poking at her.

“He-Help…me…Daph…ne….Pans…” She choked out as she controlled herself from snorting out loud due to the lack of air.

“You’re doing great, Gemma! Think of it as an exercise rather than torture! We all know you need! Your middle is getting bulgy! Losing all of the treats you ate might do you wonders!” The blonde-haired girl announced in a round of laughter.

“I’ll get you for that, Greengra- _Ahhh_!” Gemma was unable to continue her statement as Tracy tickled her on her sides, making her scream in a mixture of surprise and hysterics.

“She might follow through with whatever she had in mind, Daphne. Well, that is if she still has the energy after Astoria and Tracy are done extracting their retaliation on her.” Pansy cautioned playfully to her blonde companion.

“As you said, if she still has the energy to do so then, she’ll probably push through it but, I sincerely doubt that.” She replied, popping a piece of chocolate truffle in her mouth.

“How sure are you about that? We both know her to be stubborn. Even if she does not push through with it today, who’s to say she won’t in the coming days?” The Onyx-eyed girl questioned, her brow arching elegantly as she stared at Daphne from the rim of her goblet.

“Believe me, she’ll get distracted.” The blonde remarked, a cryptic smile playing on her peony lips. At this, Pansy’s brow reached the roof of her forehead and gazed at her friend questioningly.

“How so?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t noticed. Well, I can’t absolutely blame you for your lack of attention. You were broken hearted and we wouldn’t forbid you to engage in any form of distraction but, I can’t say that I approve of your choice of diversion.” Daphne answered, her Blue eyes staring at her knowingly and she stiffened lightly at the other girl’s implication.

               Before Pansy could reply, footsteps padded hurriedly on the soft grass and stopped meters away from their party. The plump girl heaved due to her exhaustion and exertion, cheeks flushed and dark hair in disarray.  The two friends stared, surprised at the sudden appearance of Millicent, Pansy’s designated maid. Further down the clearing, the three rambunctious females stopped their impish antics at one another to stare inquisitively at the scene unfolding before them. Realizing that she may have news to deliver, the trio returned to their seats and stared expectantly at the maid.

“Forgive me, Your Grace but, the King wishes to see you.” Millicent stated, her eyes cast down as she curtsied in front of the Scottish Princess and her ladies.

“The King? What does he want me for?” She inquired, her eyes darting among her gathered friends.

“I do not know, Your Highness but, he wishes for me to deliver you to the throne room immediately. He mentioned that you can bring your ladies with you.” The maid responded, her head still suspended in a bow.

               Once again, she glanced at her friends, who all shrugged at her, insouciantly but, held interested expressions. Sensing she wouldn’t gather any complaints from them, she turned to Millicent and smiled at her graciously.

“Lead the way, Millicent.”

               The five females stood, grooming themselves to be more presentable to the King and once they deemed themselves proper, they followed Millicent back inside the castle, strutting in the hallway, chins up, smiles bright as they passed by servants and guards at their posts. Reaching the heavy, double doors that lead to the throne room, Millicent stopped and backed away, her head bowed respectfully as she assumed her new position on the side. The two soldiers stationed by the door banged the end of their spears on the ground and as if a gust of wind rushed inside the palace, the doors opened, revealing the grandest throne room she ever laid her eyes on.

               Even after her brief stint at the palace as a child and her time back at Court, Pansy still can’t shake her amazement at the extravagance of the room. Opulence shined brighter when her eyes landed on the regal and languid form of the beautiful French Queen sitting beside her husband. At the corner of her eye, she saw Draco on the side, in front of the lined members of the King’s Council and trusted aides. Her mother, Queen Imogen, stood beside the fair-haired prince on his right, her eyes following her movements. Her heart almost faltered at the sight of Blaise, standing by the foot of the dais, his face passive and his Golden-Brown eyes cold.

               She tried to catch his gaze but, the Italian Prince stared straight ahead, giving nothing away but his aloofness. She stopped meters away from the foot of the dais and curtsied, displaying her respects and submission to the two royals. Narcissa acknowledged her presence with a tiny tilt of her head. Her gaze connected with the Steel-Grey eyes of King Lucius as he glowered at her more menacingly than usual.

“Your Majesties, I was told that you wanted to see me.” She started amiably.

“Yes, we wanted to speak to you of something that will highly interest you.” Narcissa replied, a tight smile glossing over her lips.

“Pray, what is it, Your Grace?” She asked.

“Prince Blaise has asked your hand for marriage.” Narcissa answered.

               The young Princess of Scots visibly stilled at the statement and her four ladies-in-waiting shared shocked looks with one another. She saw, at the corner of her eye, how the bastard son of the King of Italy clenches his lips into a tight line as his detached mask threatened to slip off his face.

“He asked for your permission to marry me?” She clarified, recovering from her state of astonishment.

“Certainly. We were… _surprised_ at his proposal. It never occurred to us that he took a _serious_ liking to you. We all thought that you were merely _friends_.” The Queen explained, her eyes twinkling with the hint of knowledge of knowing about their affiliation.

               Color drained from her skin and her breath hitched on her throat as she deciphered Narcissa’s words. At the knowing gaze that the Queen was giving her, she could guess that she knew of their liaison for quite some time. She realized that if the Queen knew then, surely Lucius does too and worse of all, Draco as well. She dared not to look at her first love, feeling that if she did, she would find hatred in his eyes. As much as he had hurt her, she never wanted him to feel she had betrayed him for her inappropriate coquetry with Blaise. She could deal with his parents’ loathing but, she could never deal with his revulsion.

“We _are_ friends, Your Majesty.” She admitted softly, her eyes trained at Narcissa’s Blue eyes, hoping to express her sincerity and honesty to the Queen. While Blaise and she were indulging their lust with one another, they were, indeed, friends. She would go as far as declare that the Italian Prince is one of her closest male friend within the entire castle.

                A quiet but, audible snort rang throughout the room and Pansy found her gaze traveling only to stop at the source of the offending sound. King Lucius eyed her with disdain and she pushed aside the urge to get him off his high horse and give him a piece of her mind. She will not allow herself to be bullied any longer at French Court just because she was under their “ _protection_ ”.

“Have I offended you, Your Majesty?” She inquired, cattily as she gave her fixated attention at the sneering King.

“I begin to wonder when will you realize that you have, indeed, offended me but, I will give you the leniency and benevolence of a King and forget your intransigence so, let us focus at the matter of the Italian Prince’s proposal of marriage.” Lucius spat, opting to forgo masking his displeasure with her.

“We stated that your potential suitors are to be filtered and examined by the King and I during the instatement of Scotland’s new treaty. Prince Blaise, as a prospective husband for you, has followed the needed requirements in order to court you.” The Queen began, shooting her husband an unimpressed gaze.

“Seeing as he has _adhered_ what was mandated of him, we are forced to consider him as your suitor.” The King stated, sarcastically.

“I don’t see the problem in this situation, Your Majesties.” Pansy exclaimed, ignoring Lucius’ cynical behaviour.

“There would have been no problems if it weren’t for an initial proposal between France, Scotland, and England.” Narcissa responded, keeping her expression completely neutral.

“What proposal are you talking about?” She asked, dread slowly building up from below her belly.

“In line with Draco’s marriage with Princess Hermione, England declared their interest to have an alliance with Scotland in the form of your marriage with England’s next King, Prince Harry.” The Queen replied.

                 As the Narcissa’s sweet, melodic voice died down, Pansy was surrounded with a heavy silence that rang as loud as the pounding of her heart. The dread she was feeling instantaneously disappeared and in its wake, a roaring anger came to life from the pit of her stomach and spread like wildfire in her veins, permeating on her skin like the morning dew.

                 Everything fell into place as if each event was a missing puzzle piece. She remembered her conversation with the King and Queen two months ago as she confronted them with the rumours about her postponed marriage with Draco. She recollected their words and one struck her the most.

_“Our agreement with your parents is to keep you safe from the English but, as you will no longer be in danger, I found it to be in France’s discretion to end our alliance.”_

                 Back then, she didn’t fully comprehend the King’s statement and try as she might to wrap her brain around the answer he gave her after she questioned his intentions, she still believed that he was keeping secrets from her. She knew now that she was, indeed, correct with her assumptions as his declaration did possess an underlying meaning and it was now swiftly rushing upon her like waves. She remembered four months ago, the King left for an expedition, leaving Draco and his mother to run the palace in place of Lucius. He came back after a month together with an English envoy named Albus Dumbledore, an old man with tiny glasses, a long, White beard, and omniscient eyes. He looked at her with keen interest and conversed with her, urging her to speak about herself and her family. She thought nothing about his awareness towards her as she enjoyed his presence, deeming it to be calming and reminding her of her deceased grandfather.

                 His sudden departure saddened her although it was promptly extinguished by a short letter she found on top of her dresser. Written on the piece of parchment was the promise of more sweets amidst flowing conversation as he swore that they would meet again. At that time, she merely chuckled at his heart-warming assurance, not understanding the hidden message behind every word but now, it all made sense. Once again, she felt betrayed and played.   

“It only occurred to you to tell me _now_? You all know the truth and it only crossed your minds to tell me this particular fact when I am finally coming to terms with my postponed marriage and moving on? Does keeping me in the dark amuse you?” She grilled, her dark, furious eyes sweeping across the room before landing on the French royalty.

“Don’t place the blame on us, Princess. The English wanted this proposal to be clandestine as the finalization of the preparations are not yet complete. We are forced to tell you both as Prince Blaise asked for your hand in marriage. A simple explanation with no logic behind it will only serve as a catalyst for distrust between France and Italy.” Lucius declared, eyes flashing like a sharp knife.

“And what would England say about this?” She probed, lips pinched into a grim line.

“They have nothing to worry about. The English trusts us _and_ you.” The King answered, his voice chillingly deep as if he was speaking magic spells and incantations. She supressed her urge to shiver.

“What makes you think I trust them?”

“I don’t but, you have no other choice.”

“I would rather die than surrender myself to England.”  She announced vehemently amidst the gasps around her.

                 Pleas expressed with horror and anger from different people exploded from all sides but, she didn’t listen to any of it. She stared, confident and unwaveringly, at the King, who looked one step away from murdering her.

“Silence!” Lucius bellowed. Immediately, the noise died down and in its wake, a deafening silence replaced its reign.

                 Standing from his throne, the King stepped down from the dais with resounding footfalls and piercing eyes. Pansy held her chin up as she stood her ground and met the King’s gaze with her own.

“I sincerely hope that you do not mean your words, Your Highness. To refuse England is an insult to France. We are allied to them which will be witnessed and blessed by God. Denying this proposal is the same as denying God.” Lucius reminded her with all the seriousness he could muster.

“There is no God. If there ever was a God, I would not be in this position. The only thing that I can see right now is the Devil.” She retorted with the same, or if not, much more dourness in her voice.

                 Incredulity, resentment, and condemnation bubbled over his fine face at her declaration. The air surrounding them became electrifying, charged with his increasing ire towards her. She didn’t cower in fear, though. She was through with his manipulations over her life and if there was anyone between them who should feel maligned, it should be her. They messed with her feelings, used her in any way they wished, and broke her remaining trust with them. If playing with fire will set her free then, she would do so.

“Take heed with your words, Princess. I may be forgiving for the slights you have made towards me but, I can assure you that the English are not as magnanimous as I am. Your head will roll before you could even finish your words and war will fall on your people.” He warned.

“If that is so, it will be my pleasure to fight them on the battlefield.” She exclaimed, much to his shock.

                Before anyone could even react, she swept out of the throne room and barreled through the double doors, the bright sunlight leaking through the windows and illuminating the hallway with its warm fingers but, the balmy rays of brilliance never reached her steadily freezing heart as betrayal, misfortune, and grief took hold of her remaining hope. Her dejection and pessimistic behaviour was so painfully obvious to everyone she passes by and they stopped to whisper behind her back. Normally, she wouldn’t have let any of their words to descend on her heart but, her feelings, raw and open, easily fell prey to the deceitful words and she felt herself crumble.

                Tears rolled from her cheeks as she pushed back her sobs down her throat. She felt her strength to remain strong falter every step she take and before long, her soft sniffles echoed within the halls. Wanting to find some place she could cry in peace without the obvious stares and wretched murmurs buzzing near her ears, she hurried down the halls, unaware of the people hot in her pursuit. Breaking out from the suffocating walls of the palace, she ran towards the open grass and the glaring skies. She tripped inelegantly on the hem of her dress and before she could regain her balance, she fell towards the ground.

                Waiting for the soft earth to swallow her, she closed her eyes and anticipated the pain her fall would bring. It never came as she felt strong arms wrap around her waist and smelled the seductive, intoxicating cologne of her dashing, Italian Prince. She felt herself being steadied on her feet as a hand traveled to cup cheek, the slight pressure making her turn her face to gaze at the looming figure of Blaise.

“Why? Why are you here? Why did you follow me?” She asked with a sense of urgency as her teary eyes searched his face for an answer.

“I asked for your hand in marriage and yet, you ask me as to why I followed you?” He inquired back, his voice teasing yet tinged with apprehension.

“Well, yes! I can’t ignore the fact that you chose to trail behind me rather than stay away from the mess that I have made! Surely, you understand what your actions mean!” She exclaimed, her tone rising in her hysteria.

“Of course, I understand completely. If there was any way for me to do it again, I would do so in a heartbeat.” He whispered, his thumb drawing soothing circles on her smooth cheek.

“But why? I…I can’t be with you…Not now…Not ever…” She murmured softly, leaning into his touch.

“I will find a way. I may be the Italian King’s bastard son but, I am also the Crown Prince. I have been gathering my own loyal supporters and subjects during my early days at the Italian Court. They’re numbers may not be great but, they are formidable. My father approves of them and I know that with their help, I can get him to agree to help us. Believe in me, Pansy. I will not abandon what we have, what we might possibly share in the future.” He stated, Golden-Brown eyes shining with faith as he held her tighter in his arm. She stared at his twin pools of sunlight with a blurring vision as her tears clouded her sight. She dropped her head as she wept happy tears upon hearing his words.

               Uncaringly, she raised her head and gave him the sweetest kiss she could muster amidst the saltiness of her tears. Feeling the need to be closer, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her body to fit in his. He reciprocated by enveloping her within his rugged arms and nipping at her bottom lip. She opened up to him immediately and he dove straight in as if he was a man depraved of water and she was his fountain. Their tongues dances, their teeth clashed, their breaths mingled but, despite the clumsiness and sloppiness their kiss has become, hearing the sound of their heartbeat drumming as one was more than enough to satisfy their desire to be closer to one another.

               Pulling away from one another, they stared at each other, both wearing their hearts on their sleeves as they let the unspoken be felt. With another fresh wave of tears coming, she wound her arms around his waist and let his scent comfort her. She tightened her embrace on him as she saw her mother standing at the distance with a blank expression. Their eyes met briefly before her mother broke eye contact and swept away from the scene. Closing her eyes, she let herself be lulled into a temporary peace before she stepped into hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bold dialogues came from Reign Season 1, Episode 3: Kissed. Don't forget to rate, review, favorite, and follow! I would love to hear some feedbacks from you, my loviess~
> 
> Love, love, love,
> 
> cappucakku


	4. Mother Knows Best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Handkerchief needed. Lol.

               She stared at her mother, Imogen Parkinson, as she stood with her back facing her while the woman gazed, expressionless, at the unlit fireplace. Her eyes flicked at the window, drapes fluttering like butterfly wings as a soft breeze blew through the air bringing in the smell of earth and fresh water. The peaceful atmosphere threatened to spell her into slumber but, the light rustling of fabric alerted her senses, jolting her back into reality. Returning her gaze back to the older woman, Pansy felt like she was brought back in time as her mother loomed above her with her unforgiving eyes and cold words.

“What excuse can you give me?” The elder woman asked with a clipped tone.

               Try as she might not to wince, old habits die hard. During her brief childhood in Scotland, for as long as she can remember, there was never a time wherein she would not flinch whenever her mother spoke. She found her voice alone to be intimidating and it becomes even more so if one is to stand in her presence. The current Queen of Scotland is more petrifying if thwart or mad and in this particular scenario, she had done both which resulted to her being at the end of her mother’s cool ire.

“Have you lost your ability to speak, Pansy? Or is it that you would rather be in the company of that…Italian rather than your own mother?” Imogen questioned, her Obsidian eyes wide with untainted dissatisfaction towards her.

“Of course not, Mother. I was simply thinking of my answer.” She soothed, raising a hand to hold the other woman’s hand. Her mother swatted her hand away with a slap and Pansy lowered her hand as she lowered her pained eyes.

“ _Thinking_? If you were, _indeed_ , thinking, this situation would have not made itself known. The entire Court was left in chaos! What you did earlier inside the throne room was a declaration of war with England. Your departure was an act of disobedience to France. Your relationship with that Italian bastard is a disgrace to the Scottish throne, not to mention an offense to your pure-blooded fanatical Swedish King-Grandfather. These trespasses of yours will not go unpunished. Whispers spread like wildfire and soon enough, war will come knocking on our doors because you can _not_ control your behaviour and emotions!” The woman reprimanded as she paced in front of her.

“Is the throne of Scotland the only thing that matters to you? Is being France’s lapdog giving you much needed pride? Is England that terrifying for you that you immediately sold your own daughter for your safety in expense for my own happiness?” She quizzed, her voice shaking as her tightly-lidded emotions threaten to spill to the surface.

“We, your father and I, did things the way we did because we have a duty to Scotland. We can’t afford to be selfish and if the price for peace is you, we would give you away with no questions asked.” Her mother answered, her back facing her once again.

“Just what am I to you, Mother?” She asked, a hot lump forming at her throat as her dry eyes misted with salty tears.

“You are the Princess, the next Queen of Scotland.” The elder woman replied, turning on her heel to face Pansy.

“Am I not your daughter first before being the Scottish Princess?” She probed quietly as a single tear dropped down from her lashes.

“Your duty is to your country, Pansy. It is not I or your father who you should please.”

               Her heart died a little more at her mother’s words. She expected backlash from her due to her actions. She even anticipated that the woman would slap her as she would do during her childhood before she was taken by Queen Narcissa to live in France but, she never expected her mother to break her spirit. She knew she should have expected nothing less from her but, she hoped that maybe her mother would see her as her daughter above anything else and that wish only brought her more heartbreak.

“So says the Queen.” She retorted with blank eyes and detached voice.

“You must understand, child. You _are_ a Princess. You are lucky-”

“Lucky?! There is nothing lucky about being a royal, Mother! All that I have become is a chess piece conveniently moved with a wave of a hand! I have become a stranger to both of my parents and the few friends that I have treat me as if I’m a fragile creature!” She bellowed, tears streaming down her cheeks as her frustration and other negative emotions exploded.

“You cannot act like this! This is your fate! This is _our_ fate! Even if we want to change it, there is no way that we can run away. As royals, we must make sacrifices and choose between what is right and what is easy.” Imogen lectured as she held Pansy by the shoulder.

               All of a sudden, she saw her mother for who she truly was, a woman confined within the drafty walls of the Scottish palace, surrounded by potential enemies with no friend in sight. She saw the weariness in the elder woman’s eyes and noticed how much older she seemed compared to yesterday. She bore half of her father’s burdens, maybe more than he has upon him as she continued to please not only her Scottish people but also, her previous kingdom, Sweden.

“Did it get easier?” She queried.

“No, it did not.” The Queen replied, her eyes softening at her daughter before sighing and breaking away from her.

               Imogen padded to the window and Pansy stared at her mother’s profile, drinking in her natural beauty without the pretence of a strong and formidable Queen. She was not as elegant as Narcissa Malfoy nor is she as beautiful as the French Queen but, she was in every way a royalty. Even now, as tired as she may seem, she exudes the aura of a true monarch and though, intimidated by her, Pansy can’t help but feel attracted with her mysterious air. She found herself genuinely curious as to how her mother became the woman she is.

“I know what you are thinking. You must be interested as to how I became like…this.” Her mother started, eyes boring onto her. The young woman merely nodded as she made way to join Imogen by the window.

               Outside, servants went in and out, carrying on with their duties with smiles carved on their faces. Some stopped for a quick chat while others travelled in pairs or in groups of threes as they enjoyed the company of one another before separating to return to their daily chores. She envied the ease of their lives and she wondered if she were to become an ordinary woman, would she have the freedom that they seem to adore?

“I envy them.” Imogen stated, her gaze focused on a pair of maids, giggling as they walked past a soldier stationed outdoors.

“Who?” She probed, glancing at her mother sideways.

“Ordinary people.”

               Blinking twice, Pansy was sure that it was her mother standing beside but, the mother she knew would never admit feeling jealous over the “ _common folk_ ” – as she put it. Noticing her reaction, Imogen chuckled at her and she felt even more flabbergasted at the sight of her mother openly laughing.

“Shocking, isn’t it? Well, I guess it would be for you since, all you knew of me is the harsh and cruel woman who gave you away but, I used to be just like you – rash, unpredictable, untamed. Your Grandfather would always lecture me about propriety and what is due of a woman of my position but, even his words were not enough to hold me down. I wanted adventures. I wanted life. I wanted to _breathe_.” The woman explained, turning her head to stare at her daughter.

“What changed?” Pansy murmured after a beat of silence and Imogen smiled at her sadly before tearing her gaze away to stare outside once again.

“I fell in love.” She admitted, a wistful but, melancholic expression flashed in her Obsidian orbs as if she was reliving every moment of the past.

“Who was he?” She quizzed after a moment’s silence.

“He was the son of the Head Groom, a-”

“- _servant_? You fell in love with a commoner _and_ a retainer?” Pansy exclaimed, a horrified expression splayed on her face.

               Turning to face her, Imogen eyed her with great despondency and embarrassment.

“He was more than just a servant.” Her mother explained in a soft voice.

“How so?”

“He opened my eyes to the world. He made me realize things I never would under the guidance of my Governess and the protection of your Grandfather. He made me live as a woman, not as a Swedish Princess.”

               Understanding dawned upon her as she recognized her mother’s emotions. It was the exact feeling she felt whenever she was with Blaise. He made her experience things she had never known. He made her discover mysteries and pleasures she never thought possible. With him by her side, she felt as if she were just an ordinary woman in the cusps of love which she never thought would be possible after her heartbreak. He healed her and from the looks of it, her mother’s past love healed her too.

               Grasping her mother’s hand in hers, she gave the startled woman a watery smile, a sign of her empathetic and undiscriminating perspective. In gratitude, Imogen squeezed her hand and reciprocated with a wan smile of her own.

“What ever happened to him?” She queried after their slight yet, heartfelt display of affection.

“You see, our relationship was blasphemous in every way.” Her mother started with a quiver, eyes firm at the horizon and she stepped closer to the woman as an indication of support to which Imogen gratefully appropriated. She continued, “It was difficult to pretend, to hide when all we wanted was to be with one another.”

               A steady stream of tears fell from her mother’s Obsidian eyes. The sight of the strong, confident Queen crying as the steel walls of her heart crumbled down was agonizing. She couldn’t help but, weep together with the older woman as she had no other idea on how to show her compassion while she listened to Imogen’s tragic tale.

“That desire grew stronger, until we couldn’t bear it any longer and I took the courage to confess to my Father. He didn’t take it well. My mother…Well, she had an inkling I was in love with somebody but, never had she guessed it would be a stable boy. I thought she might understand but…she was just like Father.” The Scottish Queen sniffed, dropping her gaze to stare at their joined hands.

“They say that married couples unconsciously affect one another. I wouldn’t be surprised that Grandfather and Grandmother have the same mind.” Pansy interjected as she tried to lighten the sombre atmosphere.

“Be thankful that you are miles away from them or you would have had the misfortune of being moulded into their likeness.” Imogen chuckled.

“I’m not as impressionable as you think I am, Mother.” She stated, mockingly glaring at the Queen.

“Of course, you are not, child. I can see that as plain as day. I may have never told you anything a mother should have but, right now, I advise you…No, I _beseech_ you _, don’t allow your heart to rule over you_. Don’t make the same mistake I did. If you truly love him, let him go.” The older woman counselled as she enveloped her daughter’s hands in a tight grip with a pleading expression etched on her face.

“What are you saying?” Pansy asked, her anxious eyes darting around the circumference of her mother’s face.

“I was as headstrong as you are to the point I became foolish and reckless. I publicized my relationship with him, much to my parents’ dismay and mortification. One day, a Scottish envoy arrived, bringing news. I was with him that day and we were called. Father chose to tell me that day that I was to be engaged to the Scottish Prince after several months of consideration. I was outraged and informed him that I will not promise myself to a man I have never met when I am in a relationship with a man I love. He was furious by the declaration and as a form of punishment; he locked me in the tower, distinctly commanding the guards to never let anyone inside except for his chosen servants. I tried to escape as I was worried about him. You see, as I was being dragged away to be locked up inside the tower, he was being held at sword point. I was scared that Father might have hurt him and…I was right.” Imogen enlightened, her voice dropping into barely a whisper before she could even finish but, Pansy heard her clear enough to hear the horror she had experienced.

               She didn’t force her mother to speak. She waited, knowing that it was difficult to admit the truth and to once again feel the pain. A long time may have passed but, some pains don’t easily come away. Wounds of love may be one of the hardest to ease and if true love, genuine love existed between her mother and her past love, it may never subside.

“He died. He was executed for sorcery and Paganism, a crime he was innocent of.” The Queen spat bitterly after a short silence.

               Pansy gasped sharply as her hands flew to her mouth and her eyes widen in disbelief but, her mother barely noticed her. She was looking outside the window, beyond the line of trees, past the vast sea, and over the mountains with fire in her eyes as her resentment transported her miles away from the grandeur of the French Court to the oppressive and heartless walls of Gripsholm Castle. Even at a short distance, she could see her mother’s body quaking with simmering hatred, regret, and hopelessness at the cruel fate of her dead lover. She could only imagine how painful it was for the older woman to have the strength to save her loved one only to come too late.

“They framed him, Father and his advisors. Mother was in it, too. People…Royals all over the continent were mocking them for having a daughter… _whoring_ herself to a servant. They wanted to banish all of the humiliation I brought them so, they made up a lie. They announced to the entire kingdom that he and his family were Devil worshippers and they were spawns of demons. They planted false evidences on them and to much of their sorrow and dismay, the people believed the monarchy. They were executed the day of my birthday. Father came to the tower and gave me his head as a gift. After his death, I was immediately wedded to your Father and I was on my way to Scotland. I closed off everyone around me, wrapping myself around my loathing, promising myself that I will avenge his death. I became hard. Ice-cold. A monster, just like my Father.”

               Lulled into a heavy hush, she gazed at the blurring profile of her mother as her pooling tears spilled down her eyes at the misfortune of the Scottish Queen’s love. No words could ever comfort or warm Imogen’s battered heart as her own flesh and blood betrayed her. She finally understood the aloofness that surrounded her mother.

“You are not a monster, Mother.” She amended, thickly.

“I am a monster, Pansy. You said it yourself. You are my daughter but, you are a stranger to both of your parents. It is a mother’s job to care for her own daughter, to teach her, to counsel her yet, here you are, at French Court, encircled by people neither your friends nor enemy, when your home, your _true_ home is in Scotland with us. Isn’t it horrible, unkind even, for a mother to give away her own daughter to another woman who may or may not care for her? Isn’t what I did monstrous?” Imogen asked, her dark brows furrowed in the middle as she stared at Pansy with glassy eyes.

“You were scared. It’s a feeling that is easily mistaken for something else but, as I listened to you, I knew differently. For the longest time, I have mistaken your indifference as hatred but, as I gaze into your eyes, I see that there is and never had been any animosity in you for me.” She replied, her lower lip shaking as the waterworks worked double time.

“Oh, my daughter.” The Queen cried as she surged forward and engulfed the young Princess in a long, overdue embrace between mother and child.

               Both wept in each other’s arms, wearing their hearts on their sleeves as they consoled and forgave each other for the first time. It felt like hours for them but, only minutes passed by when they finally broke away from each other with faces blotchy and snivelling noses.

“It might be a little too late to act as your mother but, I want you to listen. Pansy, I know that our situation is different but, I want you to understand the gravity of your actions. Word will reach England, I am sure of it. No matter how much Lucius covers up your relationship with Blaise and your declaration, the English has eyes and ears everywhere. Don’t let yourself be the cause of heartbreak for many others. I have experienced that and I would never want you to share the same fate as I do. Once more, I ask of you, let him go. He may hate you for it but, that is a far better fate rather than seeing him cold and lifeless.” Imogen instructed, her hands cupping both of her daughter’s cheek as her thumbs brushed away the tears streaking her smooth skin. Pansy stared at her for a moment before nodding her head as the last of her tears fell down her face.

“I…I’ll think about it.”

“Good girl.” The older woman exclaimed, brushing a kiss on her forehead and the young Princess closed her eyes, allowing the faint Gardenia scent of her mother waft to her nose, momentarily washing away her hesitations and trepidations.

“I must retire to my chambers. I am leaving for Scotland tomorrow. I have to check my belongings as well as give out orders for tomorrow. I can’t leave your Father alone much longer. He needs…assistance.” The Queen stated as she pulled away, holding her daughter within arms’ length.

“Of course, Mother. I will see you later this afternoon.” Pansy responded with a small smile.

“I’ll leave you to your thoughts, then.” Imogen announced before giving her one last kiss on the cheek.

               She watched as the Scottish Queen swept out of her room, leaving her by herself. As soon as her mother’s footsteps died down, her knees gave out and wept, her sobs loud on her ears. So many thoughts clouded inside her head, each one battling the other in order to reign supreme but, nothing came to the top as her feelings were swallowing her into a pit of chaos. She wanted to run to her Italian Prince, have him comfort her but, she knew that once she fell into his arms, she would never want to leave him so, she locked herself inside her chambers, allowing no one to disturb her other than Millicent to attend to her needs.

               The next three days passed the same. The whole palace was abuzz with whispers about her behaviour and none of it was pleasing to hear. Rumours are a nasty piece of work but also, tedious and annoying. She didn’t have any time to think about baseless stories when she has more pressing matters to think of. Her mother’s words rang deep in her mind and each day that passed, it was becoming clearer and clearer in her head. She knew that she have to make up her mind and at first, she thought she did but, with Queen Imogen’s advice as well as the haunting words of King Lucius, she knew that she should let go of her any prejudices and think as a royal.

                As if conjured by her thoughts, her mother’s parting message the day she left, surfaced in her mind.

“ _…We are not women to the eyes of the public or to the eyes of other royals. We are monarchy. We are Scotland, you, as the Princess and I, as the Queen. We are leaders of our country’s people. Forsaking our people is the same as forsaking **yourself**._ ”

                Eyes on the door, she stood up and strode to the door, opening the wooden portal with a flourish which startled the soldiers stationed outside her room and the halls. Walking out, she made way to her destination, ignoring the curious stares and noise that came from her appearance. She continued her trek down the hall until she reached the staircase and swiftly descended the steps. As soon as her feet landed on the even ground, she heard another set of footfalls from her left and she swivelled her head only to come to stare at the man she needed to converse with.

“Blaise.” She called.

                With her voice carrying out of the hall, the Italian Prince stopped mid-stride and turned to look at her with wide, Golden-Brown eyes. His initial shock died down and soon, a smile bloomed on his lips as he crossed the gap between them in just three steps. He took her cheek in his strong palm and peppered her face with feather-light kisses, making her tummy flutter and her resolve slowly crumble. Before she could succumb to him, she pushed herself away, surprising her lover at her action.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, peering at her with shining eyes.

                The courage that she managed to gather was slowly dwindling as she stared at his bright, expectant eyes and Pansy felt hatred for herself for the thing she is about to do. Taking a deep breath, she steeled her nerves, calmed her drumming heart, and focused her attention at the man in front of her.

“I have something to say.” She began, thankful that her voice was even although a pitch higher.

“Of course, _Principessa_ , I will indulge you with anything you wish to speak to me about.” He responded, suave and playful as he took her hand and gave her a kiss.

“Let us go to your chambers. I do not want anyone overhearing our conversation.”

                In a blink of an eye, Pansy was leading the way to his room with a considerable distance from the Italian Prince. This particular behaviour was not lost to Blaise as he effortlessly caught up with her but, whenever he tried to go near her or hold her hand, she would steer away like a frightened puppy. He didn’t like her sudden change of attitude and it gnawed at him. After their brief encounter at the palace grounds three days ago, he had not seen her. He tried to have an audience with her but, to his consternation, he was sent away. He waited, though. He knew that she was in an extremely difficult situation, not that he isn’t but, she was in a far worse state than he was.

                But, in the three days that he didn’t see her, she seemed to have worsened with dark bags shadowing under her red, puffy, lifeless eyes and her smooth skin appeared to have dulled and sagged slightly due to the pressure and stress resting on her shoulders. She even looked as if she lost weight. She seemed to drift in the air like paper, fluttering and faltering. She came across to him as weary and dejected. The longer he gazed at her seemingly frail profile, the more he wanted to take her away from this wretched palace and to the warmth of his beloved country, Italy.

                He knew that whisking her away would cause trouble for everyone around them but, they deserved their own happiness, too. They’ve been robbed of their freedom and he wanted to give Pansy the chance to live as an ordinary person void of responsibilities. He didn’t have a solid plan and they would probably live on the run but, they would be together. It was more than what he could ever hope for. All this time, he never felt what love felt like.

                He hopped from one woman to another, hoping that he would finally find the love that he was looking for but, nothing stirred his barren heart until, he saw her. He felt a strong pull at the sight of her soft curves and dark eyes. He wasn’t lying when he said she was beautiful. She was the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes on and he can’t help but, feel attracted with her. He never once thought that she would humour his forthright flirting but, she did and when threw her caution out of the window, she was every bit passionate and sensual as her appearance.

                During times of silence, he would wonder why she was discarded to the side like old news by the French seeing as she was an enjoyable and a comfortable partner. Her country may be small, lacking significant weaponry and able bodies but, she has ambitions. He heard of her plans and dreams for Scotland, even for France and it impressed him that for a sixteen-year old teenage girl, she has bold and grand desires that would revolutionize her country, no, the _world_ as they know it. She has the potential of being a great Queen but, the French dismissed her quickly without a second glance. It may have given her pain she may never recover from but, it gave him a reason to possess her all the more.

                As his Father once told him, “ _One man’s loss is another man’s gain_ ”. It can be said true to this situation. France just lost a valuable asset and Italy would acquire their best weapon yet. All he needed to do was convince her to run away with him to Italy and he would rule with her by his side, conquering every enemy with her brilliance and before long, they would rule over the world. He was brought out of his musings when he heard a door opening and he realized that they have arrived back at his room as Pansy went inside, padding towards the brightly-lit window without as much as a glance at him.

                He closed the door behind him silently and he moved to stand behind her, enveloping his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him. He dipped his head at the crook of her neck and trailed kisses at her skin starting from the junction between her shoulder and collar to the base of her jaw. He heard her sigh, a breathy moan that made his blood boil and his lust flair. Growling, he spun her around and kissed her rousingly. He walked them on the wall, cradling her head against his hand to avoid her from getting hurt. His lips darted out, tracing the outline of her rosy lips before delving inside her moist cavern.

                He felt his need for her flaring as her tongue danced with him in a sensuous tangle and he thrust his hip against her, rubbing his growing erection on her clothed nether lips. His hands crept up to the laces of her dress and he began to slowly untie them, the tips of his fingers skimming the exposed flesh of his lover. He felt her shiver against him and he chuckled at her reaction.

“…op…” She murmured against his lips.

                Thinking that she was urging him faster, he made fast work on her dress and completely mistaking her squirming as anticipation. What brought him back to reality was her forceful push, sending him stumbling backwards and ending their kiss. He looked at her with wild eyes as she wrapped her arms around herself.

“Stop. Please, stop.” She said, her voice quivering as she looked at him with watery eyes.

“What? Pansy, what’s the matter? You have been acting odd since we’ve met.” He stated, straightening himself before approaching her.

“Don’t…Don’t come near me. Please, don’t.” The girl whispered pleadingly as she dropped her gaze and tears streaked down her cheeks.

“What are you talking about? You’re crying! How can you expect me to just watch you?” He asked, incredulously.

“I…I can’t…We can’t…”

                Blood drained from his body and his tracks stopped as he gaped at the girl after hearing what she said. He watched her fidget under his gaze, her Obsidian eyes darting around the room to avoid his gaze but, he would not have it. In two strides, he crossed the distance separating them and he lifted her face, forcing her to look at him. She continued to fight him, closing her eyes and looking down but, he held her still. Soon enough, her hesitant gaze fell back to him and the glassy surface misted over as more tears spilled her cheeks.

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” He quizzed, his voice low and ending with a slight snarl. Pansy flinched but, he could care less about his tone at the moment. He wanted her to know that he was mad and seeing her wince at his words, he knew she realized his feelings.

“Yes.” She answered truthfully with a small voice.

“Why?”

“Because I am a Princess.” She replied, her gaze strong.

                Relinquishing his hold on her, he backed away as his feelings went into chaos. He raked a hand over his head, feeling frustration and disbelief rushing fast into his system. Repeating her answer inside his head, he chuckled silently at first and as the seconds ticked by, he was laughing with abandon. After his high subsided, he turned sharply to her.

“A Princess? A _Princess_?! Is that more important for you? Is that title going to give you a chance to be with someone who will actually care for you?” He exploded, his Golden eyes glowering at her.

“No. I’m never going to have any chance to find someone who will truly care for me because I don’t have that luxury and I don’t have that kind of life.”

“Then, why? Why are you saying that we can’t proceed with this?! You can have that life! I _love_ you! I _care_ for you! What more do you want?”

                Her breath hitched at his admission. Her heart momentarily stopped as the words echoed loudly in her ears, in her mind, in her heart, and all around her. For years, she dreamed of the sweetest confession in the presence of her Prince. She thought she would hear it from Draco but, she never thought she would hear it from the lips of an Italian Prince, the bastard son of the France’s newly-found ally. Everything that they are was unexpected, forbidden, and romantic but, hearing the words she has been dying to hear was nothing quixotic. It was painful. It was cruel. It was heart-breaking. They never had the chance to begin with. They just clung to the thought that they might. Now that she knew better, she had to do the same to him even if it crushes her.

“I am supposed to marry a _King_ , not a _bastard_. If you think that our silly dalliance meant something to me then, you are mistaken. You were merely a convenient distraction for me. What led you to believe that I will ever love you, an illegitimate son born from a filthy whorish woman cozying up with the Italian King just to scrape a few gold bars?” She probed, coolly, biting her cheek to prevent her tears from falling.

                She saw the hurt, the embarrassment, and the anger flash in his eyes from her stinging and insulting words. She knew of his insecurities as he knew of hers. They were both each other’s confidant and secret-keeper. To use his diffidence against him was out of line and she can’t blame him for feeling aggrieved by her statement.

“Is that how you feel? You are not saying that just to make me leave because you’re engaged with the English Prince or because you don’t want to risk the war that will inevitably fall on both of our doorsteps if we indulged with our inclinations?” He inquired, his anger dying down as hope replaced its’ control over him with his realization.

“At first, I did but then, I realized what I feel for you is not even remotely close to love. If you recall, I was betrothed to Draco and for ten years, I have loved him. I _still_ love him.” She riposted.

                While there is truth in her words, she no longer loves Draco the way she did during those years in the Convent. After suffering a major heart-break, she had come to realize that she loves the fair-haired Prince as a brother. She had been convincing herself that she loves him as a man as he would be her husband but, the moment she met Blaise, she realized that the feelings the Italian Prince evoked from her encompassed that of the feelings she felt with Draco. Now, none of those feelings matter because their relationship should have never happened and should not continue any longer.

“What have we been doing, then?” The boy grilled, looking at her with a pained smile.

                Pushing herself off from her post by the window, she glided past him, stopping when she was meters from the door. Looking back over her shoulder, she glanced at him, their eyes connecting. In that brief moment, she saw all the days and nights they spent in each other’s company, the stories they shared, the secrets they kept, and the kisses they stole. Before her tears fall, she broke eye contact and walked out of the room. It wasn’t until she was at the hall when she replied to his question. Soft may her voice have been but, it had never been any louder for the both of them.

"We’ve been pretending all this time.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woaaahhh! Heavy stuff. No, seriously, this chapter is heavy with feels. I mean, a mother-and-daughter conversation filled with past memories then, a couple break-up. What more can get this heavy? Anyway, I sooooo adore you guys so, please, please, emplease/em review, rate, favorite, and follow my story! Keep motivating me so, that I can give you another fan-bloody-tastic chapter!
> 
> Love, love, love,
> 
> BlueLilyLilyBlue
> 
> P.S. Yes, Pansy's mother is Swedish. Don't hate me.


	5. The Proposition

“For God’s love, you have to eat! You haven’t taken anything for _four_ days! You can’t starve yourself like this! You’re going to end up sick!”

               Pansy flicked a lazy gaze at the blonde beauty standing at the foot of her four-poster bed with her hands on her waist and an exasperated expression splashed on her face. At the table behind her, a tray filled with steaming dishes sat on the deep, mahogany furniture. Rolling her eyes at the girl, she burrowed deeper on her comfortable and soft bed, shutting away any distractions as she turned her gaze at the tranquil view of trees and glistening waters outside her wide window. It’s been four days since Blaise left France and six days since their conversation. After their meeting, she never sought him out and neither did he. She heard from her ladies-in-waiting that the Italian Prince retracted his marriage proposal the same day as she cut ties with him.

               She didn’t know what to feel regarding that information. She knew that she should feel forlorn or even extremely guilty but, all she felt was the numbness that settled inside her heart. She didn’t feel like doing anything worthwhile because she realized no one would notice her efforts and no one would praise her for it. She felt tired of trying and pretending that she was strong, that she was indifferent, that she was cold. She just wanted to let the days pass by quietly as she waste away into a shell of nothingness. 

“Don’t ignore me, Pansy. I’m worried about the state of your health. I understand what you’re going through but, it would not do if you fall ill at Court and it would impart a certain assumption to the nobility. They would think that the rumours flying around the city are all true.” Daphne paused when her sister’s delicate snort sounded from across the room. She glared at the brunette, who promptly ignored her gesture as she continued to read a romance novel. She continued.

“The King and Queen have succeeded in putting an end to the whispers around the castle but, it still managed to spread. Countless nobles have been questioning the King’s decision of letting you stay here and he’s been surlier since.” The flaxen-haired Scot exclaimed, her voice stern as she sat down beside the stoic, resting girl.

“Since when is King Lucius not surly? I would think that he’s permanently gruff but, that may only be the case if the situation is with regards to Pansy.” Astoria, the brunette sibling of Daphne, commented from her seat by the window.

“Can’t you have some tact, Ria? Pansy’s already upset as it is.” Gemma Farley admonished, sending an unamused gaze at the younger Greengrass.

“I’m just stating the obvious. It’s as plain as day that the King never liked Pansy and I’m positive that every one of us can agree that the Queen shares the same sentiment as her husband. If they can express their discontent about someone then, why shouldn’t we? They barely warrant our respect for their disgusting display of camaraderie.” The brunette retorted as she examined her nails.

“Dear God, Astoria, shut your mouth. We may be inside the safety of Pansy’s room but even walls have ears. You might want to keep some of your opinions to yourself if you value your life. Sometimes, I wonder if you even use your brain.” Tracy Davis inquired nastily, earning herself a vicious glare from the brunette.

“And what about you? Are you even using _yours_? Morag McDougal is clearly infatuated with you. When are you going to use your great intelligence to tell him that you’re not interested?” She asked, cattily.

“If you must know, I already told him my insight so, spare me of your nonsense drivel and stick with whatever childish antics that caught your interest.” The Copper-Red haired girl snarled back, her face contorted into a feral scowl.

“Will the two of you give it a rest? Your bickering is not appropriate. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re in the presence of our Princess. Fighting amongst ourselves is hardly a stellar behaviour to uphold in the presence of our future Queen.” Gemma reprimanded the two girls, interrupting their slanging match before it got out of hand.

               Tracy and Astoria relented but, not before glaring at one another, their eyes holding a silent conversation that conveyed that they would finish when they were alone. Serenity reigned inside the chamber once again and the four ladies-in-waiting turned back to their own businesses but, the peaceful bubble that slowly descended on them was popped when Pansy laughed out loud with careless abandon. The four friends shared a look with one another before staring at the giggling mess their Princess has become.

“Um, what’s…amusing you, Pansy?” Daphne asked, tentatively amidst the laughter that rang out of the room.

“I should have listened. I should have ignored his advances. There are a lot of ways that I could have done to prevent this but, I did not do it. Well, I _chose_ not to do it. I thought I knew what our relationship mean; a distraction, a chance to heal, the start of new beginning but, I didn’t picture the future, the fruit of our bond. I was selfish and foolish and arrogant and I never thought what it could me, what it could cost him and what it could cost _us_.” She answered lightly, at first, in between chuckles but, as she went on, her laughter turned into quiet sobs until she was hiccupping and snivelling, trembling underneath the thick coverlets over her bed.

               The four friends stopped their individual activities as they all shared a look with one another. They recognized Pansy’s depression and they chose to support her as it were required and expected as any of a royal’s assistant but, as her friends, they could personally relate to her as they, too, have experienced pain of their own although, it was not as publicized as the young Princess’ romance. Still, they understand her feelings and emotions and they knew that no amount of words or comfort could ease up her sadness.

               Silently, the three girls moved to her bed and sat beside her, each offering their touch of sympathy as they listened to the girl’s melancholic sobs. The sombre atmosphere was interrupted when a knock sounded and the door cracked open. The Platinum-Blonde hair of France’s Crown Prince appeared and the four girls stood from their seats, each curtsying low for the fair-haired Prince.

“Am I interrupting?” He questioned, Grey eyes sweeping at their faces before landing at the foetal form of Pansy.

“Not at all, Your Grace.” Astoria replied, smiling sweetly at him. Daphne raised an elegant brow at her sister.

“Good. Do you mind if I speak with Pansy?” Draco inquired with a smile of his own.

“Of course not, Your Highness. We will leave the both of you, then.” The younger Greengrass stated, bobbing into another curtsy, prompting the other girls to do the same.

               As soon as they finished giving their respects to him, the four girls exited the room, leaving the French Prince alone with Pansy. With the door closed, Draco padded towards his former fiancée, seating beside her with her frail back facing him. Staring, he noticed how much she thinned in the span of four days. Her White nightgown hangs loosely on her shoulders and upon close inspection; her skin is ashen of color. Her hair was matted and lifeless against the White of her pillowcase. Shivers wracked her body as she shed more tears, her sobs escaping from her lips.

               Concern filled him and in a desperate attempt to soothe her, he caressed her head with cautious hands, in case she jump in surprise at his action but, when she barely moved, his palm worked with more confidence. For a while, he stroked her gently as he waited for her to calm down. When her sobs died down and her quivering stopped, he retracted his hands and composed himself at the inevitable conversation that will happen between them. It’s been more than two months and even though he was sure that the girl has moved on from him, he still owed her an explanation.

               He also wanted to hear her story. Of course, he knew everything. He saw them together countless of times and it didn’t take a genius to know that there is something blooming between them but, there is only so much someone can know at the side-line. He didn’t want to pry on their relationship, choosing to observe the progress and only intervene when things began to head south except, he didn’t have the chance to intercede because her mother, Queen Imogen, took matters in her own hands. The Scottish Queen has more right to talk to her daughter than he has, knowing that anything he would say might only provoke Pansy instead comfort her.

               Before Queen Imogen left, she spoke with him and entreated him to look after her daughter. He never knew the woman well, only hearing testaments about her ruthlessness and cunning. He thought of her as a cold person considering she gave away her only child to his parents, a couple who was just as cold or even more so, frostier than her but, upon seeing her beg to him, made her much more human and erased his misconceptions about her. He knew better than to agree but, as he gazed in her eyes, he saw the desperation, the sorrow, and the understanding she held for her daughter. He found it difficult to refuse and he even promised her that he will ensure her happiness and safety inside the castle, leading him to seek her out after four days of hiding behind the silent corners of her chambers.

               He felt her shift and as he looked down at her, he saw how broken she was. Her bright, Obsidian eyes turned into a puddle of murky mud during a rainy day with dark circles shadowing the underside of her eyes. Her face was pale, gaunt and weary as if haunted and ravaged by war. Tear trails marred her hollow cheeks with a smattering of red and nail marks, obviously from her frequent clawing and scratching away tears. Her rosy lips were cracked, chapped, and horrendously bloody from her constant restraint to sob.

               His apprehension for her flared as she resembled the dead with her stick thin figure and dreary eyes. He couldn’t bear to see and look at her like this. She was barely the shell of the girl he once knew and he knew that he needed to help her regain her will to live before she tipped to the edge.

“It’s a nice day today. I reckon that it’s the perfect day to go out riding.” He said, conversationally, his eyes straying to take in the brilliant early afternoon vista outside her window. A bird soared across the Blue sky and his Grey eyes followed its trail. At the corner of his eye, he saw Pansy staring out, her dark eyes glazing over as if a memory emerged to the surface.

“Let’s go outside, Pans.” He announced, ripping his gaze from the sky to gaze at the girl beside him. She merely stared at him blankly, a small frown playing on her lips.

“I miss riding out with you. Amongst the nobles and soldiers that I joined for a ride, there has been no one that made me enjoy riding the way you do.” Draco confessed, hoping that his words would affect the girl in the slightest. Pansy inclined her head, questioningly and evidently unconvinced.

“It’s the truth. The French nobility is too posh to indulge in a bit of fun and the soldiers are intimidated with me to the point it’s ridiculous. Those who aren’t are too arrogant or odiously witless for my taste. I can suffer arrogance but, I can’t condone stupidity.” He explained, grinning down at her as he saw the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the edges of her lips.

               He took her hands in his own and squeezed them. He felt her tighten her hold of his hand and saw a hint of a spark behind her cloudy eyes.

“Say yes, Pansy. Say yes.” He urged. The girl stared at his face as if searching for an answer to her unspoken question.

“Wh…y? Wh-Why are y-you…do…ing th…is?” She croaked, her voice thick and broken as she voiced out the enquiry that she had been dying to ask since the moment he sat beside her.

“I’ve been unfair to you…and my family has caused you more than enough grief. I want to at least take away the pain that’s residing in you.” He answered, honestly.

               Gazing up at him, she saw the truth in his eyes and heard the sincerity in his voice but, uncertainty remained in her heart. Tearing her hand out of his grasp, she gingerly sat up, Draco assisting her with his palms on her back. She stared at her hands, noticing their rough texture and bitten down nails. They looked hideous, unsanitary, and beyond help.

“ _Just like you_.” A voice inside her head whispered. A fresh wave of tears spilled down her Red-rimmed eyes as she was reminded of her wretched state.

               She burrowed her face in the palm of her hands, ashamed to show her companion how damaged she was. She felt him shift around and she was engulfed in an embrace with his voice lulling her into a state of calmness.

“Forgive me, Pansy. This was my entire fault. I shouldn’t have agreed with my Father’s decision. If I didn’t, we would still be engaged and you wouldn’t be in this state.” He lamented.

               Pulling her face away from her palms, she looked at him as she shook her head in disagreement.

“There’s nothing you could have done.” She said.

“No, I should have done something. I told you that I-” Draco paused when Pansy held up a finger.

“We both know that isn’t the case. Your Father merely agreed to our engagement due to the promise of supply of Scotland’s resources. It was annulled when the King found another, more favourable alliance in the form of the English. Even if we had feelings, we might not get married. All engagements ever do is hold alliances and our engagement is just that, an alliance. There is nothing we can do to make things go the way we wanted them to or how we want things to go.” She rebutted, her voice descending to barely a whisper as her mind flew away and brought her back to the time she was happy within the arms of her Italian Prince.

“You can’t fault yourself for what happened between you and him.” Draco stated as he observed her.

“As you should. We’ve both made mistakes. It would be best if just forget about it.” She announced.

“Can you?” He asked, his elegant brows shooting up his forehead as his eyes stared at her knowingly.

               Draco’s question brought her to a stop. She merely said what she did in order for him to drop the subject but, she never anticipated that he would ask her such an inquiry. It certainly perked up her senses as the words rang deep inside her head and inside her heart. She could easily lie to him but, that would only fall on deaf ears. He knew what she felt. She wouldn’t be in this state if she weren’t.

“I have a proposition for you.” He said after a moment of silence.

               The certain gleam in his eyes tells everything that she needed to know. She knew that indulging him would create more trouble in the future but, she has to admit that she’s more than willing to be involved in something that would take her mind off him.

“Of what sort?” She probed, eyeing him with mild interest.

“Inconvenience.” He replied with deceptive insouciance.

               His answer only solidified the idea latched in her brain. With that knowledge, she could still turn away from the conversation but, if indeed wanted nothing to do with it, she would have said so in the first place. Looking at his expression, she knew he had her caught. He knew her well enough to bait her and as usual, she let him. Being heartbroken doesn’t excuse her for being less receptive than usual.

               She should have known from the start that the reason why he approached her was because of his offer. He wouldn’t do something charitable as comfort her when it would gain him nothing. If there is one thing that she learned about Draco, he can be devious with regards to the things he likes. He would not mind resorting to questionable tactics in order to obtain things but, she was hardly someone he likes. Sure, he claimed to have feelings for her but, it might even weight less compared to her feelings for him.

               Setting aside his offer, there are plenty of people who he can get entertainment from. She can’t understand his intentions. Another thing that she observed of him is that he never does anything without a reason. No matter how obscure his reason was, everything he does can be justified. His proposition, however, needed more clarification in order to convince her.

“Why?” She queried, her Obsidian orbs penetrating on his Grey pools.

“I told you, I was unfair.” Draco said, his head tilting to the side.

“Don’t you think that you’re _still_ being unfair to me?”

“At the chance of helping you?” He smirked at her and Pansy controlled herself from slapping the annoying leer off his face.

“In what way will it be helpful to me, Draco? This arrangement will only put me more under fire.” She exclaimed, leaving the comfort of her bed in exchange for standing at the edge of her bed and glared at her blonde companion.

“ **Embrace thee, sour adversity, for wise men say it is the wisest course**.” He retorted, pushing off the soft mattress and rounded the bed to stand before her. She glowered at him with fierce disapproval and a hint of hesitation.

“You can’t run away from trouble. As royals, we are forever in its shadow. There’s no path that has no obstacles. If it does exist then, it leads to nowhere. Take a chance, Pansy. Take _another_ chance.” The fair-haired Prince encouraged as he stepped closer to her until they were millimetres apart.

               She stared up at him, her earlier discontentment with him wilting away as her reluctance settled permanently in her belly. His words boomed inside her mind and she listened to it over and over again, absorbing and savouring each syllable as if it was a spell to end her suffering but, she knew otherwise. It was a spell casted to continue her misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco is being a bad boy. Your father is going to hear about this, young man! Teehee~  
> Rate and review, pleaseeee! I would love to hear how you guys are receiving my story! Until the next update!
> 
> Love, love, love,  
> cappucakku
> 
> P.S. Bold words are by William Shakespeare, my beloved poet. I can only hope that its mine *sighsss


	6. Snake in the Garden

               Draco notched his arrow on his bow and stretched the bowstring up to his cheek. He shut an eye close and focused on the very center of the target board. Taking a deep breath, he steadied his arms and angled himself properly before letting loose of the bowstring as he exhaled. He watched as his arrow sailed across the air and pierced the middle of the inner Yellow circle of the target board. A resounding applause greeted his success and the game official ran from his post in order to judge his aim. When the officer straightened, he raised a Green flag.

“ _L'oeil de Bull! Prince Draco est le gagnant_!” (Bull’s eye! Prince Draco is the winner!) He shouted to the crowd.

               More cheers and praises rand throughout the open field and Draco smiled charmingly at his audience, slightly amused at the audible sighs of the female population. His attention was caught by the five ladies sitting at the edge of the archery field, in particular, the girl with Black hair and eyes. He saw her rolling her eyes at the females’ reaction and he smirk at her. Apparently, the girl saw him and she stared at him with an unimpressed gaze. Once upon a time, she would have reacted the same way as most girls but, after suffering at the hands of his family as well as him, she developed a hard exterior.

               She was slowly returning to life but, he could still see the visage of a broken woman underneath the mask of nonchalance and the air of privilege that she exudes. A week after his proposition to her, she became even more daring than before. She openly bandied with people, _people_ whom she would never dream of conversing and laughing with. She took up lessons she thought of as boring and she started attending Court meetings even though she wasn’t needed. Her attitude baffled most of the people but, it was a welcomed change.

               They thought of it as her maturing and realizing her responsibilities as a Princess and in the near future, as the new Queen of Scotland. Even his parents, who were normally dismissive and reluctant about her, were impressed by her sudden dedication and astounding knowledge. It wasn’t surprising to find the three engaged in an in-depth conversation about politics, trading systems, and land reforms. He was happy that she was finally overcoming the pain and heartbreak that she bore within months in France but, whenever she was alone with him, he would find her distant and withdrawn. It was only then did he realize that everything she was projecting outside was merely a façade to hide her sadness.

               He did his best to quell her loneliness through pleasure but, even that momentary escape was more than enough to bring tears to her eyes. Forgetting would be a difficult task for her as every single thing that she does remind her of him. He knew long ago that she was the kind of girl that gives her heart completely. He likes to associate her Rooks as the animals mate for life. She was the same and he feared that she may end up living a lonely life without the love she has found.

               He knew of her situation very well. He may have no chance to announce it but, he found someone to love. He didn’t expect it but, when he felt it, he didn’t hesitate to seize it. He knew that going into a secret relationship was risky but, he was willing to try. He loved seeing her smile, hearing her talk, feeling her skin on his, and he especially loved it when her sweet scent floated to his nose, filling his sense with her and only her.

               He never wanted to let her go but, with his annulled engagement with Pansy and his upcoming marriage with the English Princess, he had to. It was difficult for both of them but, it was much more unbearable this time. Even if he wanted to see her, he had to settle for looking at her from afar. He had done observing her for quite some time after their separation and this was the second time in months that he would see her much closer. He desired to gaze at her longer but, one look at her face says that he shouldn’t linger much longer.

               Turning back, he stared at his opponent, who was obviously gawking at the five seated ladies he was just eyeing a moment earlier. He cleared his throat, hoping that it would help catch the other male’s attention. It didn’t. The dirty-Blonde, Portuguese Prince kept on ogling at the girls, a certain brunette in particular and it irked him to no end. He cleared his throat once more, this time a little bit louder and thankfully, the goggling Princeling finally tore his eyes from the girls in exchange for a mildly concealed sneer directed at him.

               Repressing his urge to jeer back at him for his obvious and disgusting staring, Draco smiled at him, even if it was tense and forced. He didn’t want to act inappropriate and humiliate France just because he found the Portuguese Prince highly perverted. He spent almost half of the time eyeing up girls and the other half was spent with bragging and tongue-in-the-cheek suggestions to further improve _his_ aim when in truth, Draco’s aim was a thousand times better than his. He wanted nothing more for this little exhibition game to be over so that he could get away from the annoying and mind-numbing company of Prince Zacharias. If only he wasn’t the French Prince, he wouldn’t be subjected to such menial tasks such as entertaining and being hospitable with someone who he highly doubts would be useful to France.

               Guests have begun to arrive to the Palace of Fontainebleau for a week now and several allies, including Portugal, have been invited to attend his impending marriage happening after two months’ time. He didn’t question his Father about his decision of inviting Portugal, even if the elder Malfoy found the Portuguese to a bit overbearing to the point of being infuriating, because he was the King and it’s expected that the King invite his allies to his successor’s wedding as part of social customs but, at this point, he wanted to forgo traditions and niceties and send the Prince back to his country. He was on the verge of breaking point and if he had to spend one more day in his presence, he would absolutely go mental.      The way the Portuguese Prince lord his way inside _his_ home grated on his nerves so much that servants and soldiers avoid him as much as possible in order not to provoke him any further. He admitted to himself that he, himself, was arrogant and egotistic but, he knows his limitations unlike Prince Zacharias, whose personality can be described as obnoxious, condescending, degenerate and a hypocritical ingrate.

               He wanted to take him down a peg or two and his brilliant Mother suggested that they play archery as it happened to be the favourite sport of the loathsome Prince. It was supposed to be a small affair with minimal number of audience but, since his Mother had a hand in _almost_ everything, it became public knowledge. He hoped that the Portuguese would show him some talent since he bragged that he was the best archer in Portugal but, even before the first round ended, Draco already saw that it was particularly easy to win against him although, Zacharias seemed oblivious to the fact that he was dismal at the sport as he continued to show-off his non-existent skills. Being pompous himself, he didn’t restrain his lips from the snide remarks rolling off his tongue and by the end of the second round, Zacharias barely hit any of the target as he was seething hotly. Draco didn’t even bother acknowledging him during the third round as he knew that he would win the match by a landslide and true to form, he did win, much to his expectations and his parents’ pride.

               Seeing the obvious frown on the Prince’s face was more than enough consolation for the time he wasted with his company. Of course, he enjoyed mocking him but, freedom from his haughty comments and self-important attitude was something much more pleasurable _and_ welcomed. Knowing that he succeeded in showing the repulsive boy his deficiencies, he pulled out his gloves and offered a hand for him to take. He didn’t want to touch the other man but, in order to show camaraderie and spirit, he had to.

“Good match.” He said, his voice deceivingly warm and friendly.

               Prince Zacharias scowled deeply but, shook his hands nonetheless. His lips twitched.

“If you would like, I could accompany you for target practice. I can’t help but notice earlier that you have a certain inclination for…long range archery. I understand that you find the palace a bit small and your movements are a bit restricted which I see affected your _superb skills_. I can help you adjust by showing techniques for short distance.” Draco offered, innocently. Inwardly, he was bustling with amusement as he watched Zacharias’ face redden within 0.9 seconds from the insinuation. The Prince tore his grasp from his hand as if it was a hot poker and stalked away, muttering and fuming under his breath.

               At his sudden departure, the crowd murmured but, Draco merely chuckled. He turned around when he heard the soft footfalls of a servant running towards him. The portly man was carrying a Silver tray with a single White rose on top. He stopped and bowed, offering the tray at him and he picked up the flower, smelling the blossom and inhaled its delicate scent. Holding out his bow for the servant to take, he walked forward, in the direction where the five females were seated and stopped until he was in front of Pansy. As he knelt before her, the crowd stirred more, speculations flying from here and there but, he ignored the noise as he pulled his gaze up at her.

“Will you accept my favour, Pansy, future Queen of Scots?” He asked as he offered the flower. The girl looked at him, bewildered.

“Have I offended?” He inquired once more.

“Not at all. Thank you, Draco. I’m honoured.” The young Scottish Princess exclaimed, smiling at him wanly.

               He sprung up and extended his hand for her to take. She stared at it for a minute before gingerly taking his hand and let herself be pulled to her full height. He tucked her hand on his elbow and together, they swept away from the field and into the quiet of the gardens, leaving behind the buzzing and raving of the public and the inquisitive, suspicious gazes of his Father and Mother. They walked in silence as they took in the beautiful scenery around them, the sound of water and the shaking of leaves play as music in their rather quaint party. They stopped at a rather secluded area with thick shrubs and abundant trees before facing one another and simultaneously crashed their lips together.

               Pansy snaked her arms around his waist, her dainty palms resting against his back as his hands travelled to cup her cheek and find home on her tailbone. Their mouths moved in perfect harmony as they nibbled and nipped each other, their tongues swirling and teeth clashing. They broke apart when they heard the rustling of leaves, angry stomps, and incoherent grumbles from beyond the cover of the bushes and the two stood as stiff as a board, waiting for whatever or whoever pass. They strained their ears as they tried to make out the owners of the voices they heard. Pansy gasped in recognition and Draco instantly placed a hand on her mouth as he glared at her harshly, his eyes speaking what his lips couldn’t.

               The girl glared back, not pleased by his gesture but, the fair-haired Prince didn’t notice her. He was staring at the entrance of their hiding spot, his Grey eyes hardening as he recognized the voice.

“… _humilhe-me!..._ _bastardo podre…juro que eu ..._ ” (…humiliate me!...rotten bastard…swear I…) The voice, gruff and hefty, belonged to no other than the Portuguese Prince. Educated with at least ten languages, Draco realized that the subject of the Princeling’s ire was him. He merely rolled his eyes at the immaturity of his behaviour.

“ _Por favor, o Príncipe Zacharias_ … _fale corajosamente_ … _ouvir você…_ ” (Please, Prince Zacharias…speak boldly…hear you…) Another voice, this one much softer and obviously feminine, pleaded. His brows furrowed as he contemplated on the identity of the voice.

“ _Silêncio!_ ” (Silence!) A resounding clap echoed through the gardens as Prince Zacharias struck his female companion. Draco gritted his teeth at his cruelty and disrespect for his servants. Beside him, Pansy growled lowly in her throat, obviously sharing his discontentment with the Portuguese. The detestable man continued to berate his retainer, much to their abhorrence.

_“_... _muito mais sua preocupação! Você é apenas um sevantado_ … _o que fazer…aqui comigo…mulher inútil!_ ” (...much more your concern! You’re just a servant…what to do…here with me…useless woman!) Once more, a thunderous slap rang within the greenery followed by a soft thud coupled with a pained whimper. A mocking snort escaped from the Prince.

“ _Como...esse pai...surpreendentemente com você...durma com ele?... o seduziu para que... procure outros homens...desde...mas nunca me diga o que para fazer ou eu vou..._ ” (How...that Father would...amazing about you...sleep with him?...seduced him so that...to look for other men...as long as...but, never tell me what to do or I will...) The man threatened. A grunt of agony reached his ears and he could only imagine what Zacharias did to the female servant. He felt Pansy struggle underneath his hold and he tightened his grip on her. She bit his hand and he hissed in pain, retracting his abused palm from her face as he glared at her harshly.

               She merely pushed him, stalking towards the light and Draco followed her in alarm. She was a step away from the cover of the bushes when he finally caught her wrist and pulled her once more into the bleak darkness.

“What are you doing? Let go of me.” Pansy ordered, twisting her arm from his hand in an attempt to get free but, the blonde’s hold only tightened. He pulled her closer until they were nose-to-nose, his eyes flashing dangerously against the minimal amount of light flittered in between the leaves.

“Keep quiet. He will hear you.” He whispered, sternly.

“I do not care if he hears me. He’s abusing his servant. A _woman_.” She seethed.

“I am aware of that but, we can’t risk the chance of being seen.”

“Is your reputation that important that you will prioritize it over the life of another person even if it is a servant’s life? I didn’t realize that you are _that_ unsympathetic.” Pansy mocked as her face grew unforgiving. Before he could express a retort, the Portuguese Prince spoke, his voice clearer as they were nearer than before.

“ _Levante-se. Não me faça arrastá-lo daqui até a taberna. Já desperdicei o meu tempo do jogo idiota de tiro com arco. Eu não quero passar muito do meu tempo com você quando posso negociar com ele_.”  (Stand up. Don't make me drag you from here to the tavern. I've already wasted my time from the idiotic archery game. I don't want to spend much of my time with you when I can be negotiating with him.)

               Ears perked up at Zacharias’ statement. Draco looked down at Pansy to see her staring at him with wide eyes. He merely placed a finger on his lips indicating that she remain silent as they waited for any other information.

“ _Ele chegou ao lugar da reunião, Sua Alteza. Eu acredito que ele está com outra pessoa_.” (He's arrived at the meeting place, Your Highness. I believe that he's with another person.) The female exclaimed, her voice shaking, evidence of her Master’s mistreatment.

“ _Outra pessoa? Eu especificamente disse-lhe para transmitir-lhe para não trazer excesso de bagagem para a França! Mais pessoas aumentariam o risco de ser pego! Mais uma vez, você prova ser um detrimento do que ajuda_!” (Another person? I specifically told you to relay to him not to bring excess baggage to France! More people would increase the risk of getting caught! Yet again, you prove to be more of a detriment than help!) Zacharias shouted as a booming slap thundered through the air.

“ _Perdoe-me, meu príncipe. Eu disse a ele um par de vezes, mas, ele era o mais insistente. Ele acredita que o homem que ele trouxe seria útil para a causa_.” (Forgive me, My Prince. I have told him a couple of times but, he was most insistent. He believes that the man he brought along would be helpful to the cause.) She sniffled.

“ _Eu serei o juiz disso. Venha agora. Fiquei aqui por muito tempo. Não posso deixá-lo esperar por mais tempo ou ele pode agir por sua própria vontade. Não vai fazer Portugal bom se ele criar uma ação indesejada_.” (I will be the judge of that. Come along now. I have stayed here far too long. I can't let him wait for me any longer or he might act on his own accord. It won't do Portugal any good if he creates an unwanted action.) The Prince announced ominously.

               Footsteps sounded and the pair shuffled back to the dark, silencing their breaths as Zacharias passed followed by his scurrying maid. As she passed by, they saw the darkening bruises colouring both of her cheeks and both of them were appalled by the gravity of her injuries. When their footfalls finally faded, they emerged from the canopy of verdures and into the bright sunlight.

“What do you suppose the “ _cause_ ” is?”  Pansy questioned, sitting at a stone bench near a perfectly trimmed Rosemary bush.

“I have several ideas in mind but, I’m much more interested with who he’s meeting.” He answered, observing the soft Violet petals of the bush in front of him.

“Yes, so am I. Do you think that these men are his fellows or…” She let her query hang as she saw the contraction of his jaw.

“We can’t speculate right now. What we need is evidence.” Draco announced, Grey eyes connecting with Black.

“What do you propose?”

“I will keep an eye on him.”

“You mean to spy on him?” She asked, her brows shooting to the roof of her forehead.

“Is something wrong with that?” He shot back, his lips curling into a sneer. Pansy rolled her eyes.

“Maybe you’re forgetting the matter of you upcoming marriage, Draco. With all the guests and foreign dignitaries you have to entertain, you won’t have time to play detective. You should pass the responsibility to someone else, possibly someone you can trust.” The young woman responded, primly and the fair-haired Prince gave her a rather long measuring look that made her particularly incensed.

“You only need to say it if you don’t have the confidence in me.” She said, miffed.

“It’s not like that, Pansy. We might be mistaken here but, if I were to drag you into this matter deeper, you might fall into jeopardy. You have to remember, you are Scotland’s future.” He explained.

“And so are you. France’s future and fate rests on your shoulders. We are in the same boat, Draco so, there is no need for you to shelter me from the dangers of the world. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been exposed to threats ever since I was a child. I wouldn’t be here if I was safe in my own country.” She reasoned, her dark eyes fierce.

               Draco stared down at her, searching her face for any hint of hesitation, anything at all that he could use to stop her but, her expression never faltered. He was impressed of her determination but, at the same time, saddened that the sweet girl he met when he was six and once again, when he was sixteen, vanished and in her place was a woman, a Queen of her own right. With her headstrong personality, he knew he had to relent to her wish. He sighed.

“You can do as you wish _but_ , my parents need to hear this, especially my Father. He might have a more concrete idea regarding what the “ _cause_ ” may be.” He stated.

“Well, no better time to tell them than the present.” She announced, standing up from her seat and looked expectantly at him. His lips twitched in amusement at her eagerness and he indulged her by offering his arm for her.

               Taking it, they began their journey to his parents, stopping at times to gain information from the servants regarding his parents and when they finally received a unanimous answer, they proceeded to the Council Room. As the doors opened, they were met with mild chatter and it only ceased when an aide announced their presence to the occupants of the room.

“Draco, Pansy. To what do we owe your visit?” His Mother, Narcissa, inquired, walking towards him and held his hand.

“Hello, Mother. Pansy and I have something to discuss with you and Father.” He replied, Grey eyes sweeping from his mother’s Sapphire eyes to his Father’s questioning gaze. He noticed a man with greasy, Black hair and hooked nose standing beside his Father, his eyes widening as recognition hit him.

“Uncle Severus, you have returned.”

               Eyes turned to look at the pale man and his expression soured from the sudden attention. Draco enjoyed seeing his Uncle squirm and judging by the nasty glare he was sending him, he knew that Severus was far from pleased with him.

“It’s delightful to be back at Court, Your Highness.” He drawled, his voice far from elated.

“I trust that your journey has been agreeable?” The fair-haired Prince asked, his curiosity rising out of him.

“Quite. I had reported to you Father my observations and sentiments.” Severus responded, seemingly uninterested but, his shining dark eyes tells a different tale.

“And?”

“You will find yourself quite…challenged, I’m afraid.”

               Draco smirked lightly. He could always trust Severus to pique his interest. It’s no wonder that his Father had sent Severus Snape, his Godfather, appointed tutor, and his Father’s trusted advisor, to be the French envoy to voyage through the seas to England in order to build more bridges and establish trust for both ends. He was also tasked to observe the English Prince and Princess as a royal protocol. He has been absent from Court for five months since the beginning his assignment, sending the occasional letter to him asking about his studies as well as his responsibilities as the Crowned Prince.

               He would, at times, ask his Godfather about his life in England but, the man would evade the question. He knew of the Severus’ previous life in the posh country. He discovered that he was an Englishman by birth and that he was the son of a commoner and a noble lady. As the offspring of such a scandalous relationship, his childhood was not stellar and bright. His mother’s family disdained for his “ _impure_ ” blood and his father often neglected him as he was more concerned with fighting with his mother and on several occasions, abusing him. He knew nothing how Severus survived such an unforgiving upbringing only that when he was sixteen, he was accepted in the English palace as an aide for the English envoy, Albus Dumbledore.

               From then on, it seemed that his life was easier than before but, Draco caught on quick. Being the guarded person that his Godfather is, he knew that he was keeping secrets from him but, he never once forced him to tell him. He respected him and he was grateful for the knowledge he imparted with him. He might be detached, snarky, and a tad bit awkward but, Severus Snape is one of the best men he had ever met. He may have no idea how he ended up here in France and will never want to know but, he was glad that he chose to live here, giving him not only a Godfather but, also a friend.

“Let us talk about Severus’ adventure later. For now, enlighten us with your reason for this interruption, Draco.” His Father, Lucius, ordered, his deep baritone voice booming.

“It’s kind of…private, My King.” Pansy said for the first time she entered.

               Understanding her request, Lucius immediately dismissed his Council, promising to resume their meeting at the earliest time possible. No one seemed to be bothered that Severus remained, knowing that it is normal for him to be beside the King unless he was ordered to leave. As the last of the Council member exited, the doors closed, sealing the five inside the extravagant room and lulling them into a much more sombre mood.

“Now that we are alone, what is it that you wish to tell us?” The King probed, padding to the refreshment table to pour himself a glass of wine.

“Before we begin to explain, I would like to remind you that this is all speculation. Nothing is concrete and I would like all of you to promise that this will not be spoken to anyone.” The young woman advised, her Obsidian eyes sweeping at every face before landing back to the King’s.

“You have our word, Your Highness.” Lucius expressed, sincerely.

               Her Black eyes glanced at Narcissa, who tilted her head in agreement and at Severus, who nodded once, briskly. Satisfied, she looked back up at the Platinum-Blonde haired boy on her arm who looked back at her with a serious expression. She saw a subtle nod, indicating that she be the one to begin.

“Prince Zacharias might be plotting something.” She declared.

               The atmosphere of the chamber turned as if it was submerged into the deepest crevice of the earth. It was both hot and cold, the air stale and still as if it was sucked right out of their lungs. Even the sweet song of birds stopped, replaced by the muffled howling and barking of Pansy’s Scottish Terrier, Bain. The dog’s yowling only added to the ominous undercurrent, making standing unbearable and uncomfortable. He felt Pansy grip his arm tighter as they waited for the three adults to acknowledge them. They didn’t have to wait long as they were startled by Lucius when he banged his goblet on the mahogany table, rattling the furniture down to its legs, a few quills and parchments falling to the floor into a messy pile.

“ _Bâtard gluant. Je le savais_.” (Slimy bastard. I knew it.) The King growled, primitively, Silver eyes hardening into a pair of Steel orbs.

“What are you saying, Father?” Draco questioned, his brows creating a crease in between is eyes.

“We’ve been suspecting that Portugal has been planning against France for a while now. What you’ve said just solidified that suspicion.” Narcissa sighed, sinking into a nearby chair as she rubbed a finger on her temple.

“If you knew, why haven’t you done anything?” Pansy grilled.

“It’s not that easy, dear. Portugal has been allied with France for years. We can’t simply dismiss them with mere speculation on our part. They easily take offense at the simplest of matters and without an explanation, us severing our alliance with them would cause war to both our countries.” The Queen enlightened, jadedly.

“How about spying on them? Surely, that will produce results.” The fair-haired Prince remarked, his face upturned.

“We already sent spies to Portugal but, none of them brought back satisfactory reports. I’ve been gathering information from my travels and I’ve only managed to get miniscule results.” Severus defended.

“With these information you gathered, I expect that you have a significant amount of idea regarding their motive?” Draco inquired, his brow quirking upward in a manner that can only be described as provoking.

“In a manner, yes but, as it is, we lack evidence.” Lucius replied.

“We are more than willing to aid you.” Pansy proclaimed, boldly. The King blinked at her.

“Your Highness, I beg your pardon but, this matter does not concern you.” Severus retorted, sneering at her as if she was a petulant child.

“I beg to differ. I am as involved in this as you are. I am under the jurisdiction of France, making me a subject. You may disagree with me but, you cannot deny that I am a resident of France much more that I am a dweller of Scotland. As a living citizen of this country, I am entitled to show and vocalize my concern.” She reasoned, eloquently, her chin raised confidently as she argued her point.

               Draco understood her case. She spent more years here at France rather than in her own country. She was basically their citizen even if Scottish blood flows through her veins and it was a fact that his parents seemed to agree. He could see it in their faces that they share the same sentiments as Pansy and they see her worth (finally).

“Perhaps, we should give the Princess a chance, Severus. After all, she does have the knowledge and skill of a true-blooded royalty. We should give her the opportunity to show her capabilities. We do need all the help we can get, after all.” Lucius verbalized, much to the shock of Severus.

               As far as he knew, the royal couple was far from welcoming to the Scottish Princess. They didn’t like her presence within the palace as she proved to be a simpering girl panting over their son. While it can be interpreted as simply being devoted, to him and the Malfoys, it was downright obsession. The girl showed her interest with his Godson in the early age of six and while it was endearing to some, it was highly appropriate for him and his two royal friends. He was thankful that he didn’t have to endure watching Draco and Pansy flirting around the castle as he was assigned to travel to England but, apparently, his time in the foreign land changed plenty of things.

               Not only were Narcissa and Lucius being friendly with the Princess, they were regarding her as if she was their equal. He knew from the beginning that the Malfoys were proud beings and they do not mingle with anyone unworthy or inadequate to be in their presence. They made their thoughts about Pansy clear from the start, claiming that although she was a girl blessed with money, land, and title, she was comparable with any other girl throughout the country with her attitude. There was nothing spectacular about her as she was average at best but, suddenly having the recognition of Lucius made him wonder if she had more substance than he gave her credit for. He wasn’t positive that she, indeed, has the confidence of the King but, one look in his eyes made him certain.

               If Lucius has faith in her then, Narcissa did, too. Sure enough, the blonde woman was staring at Pansy with a small smile, if a bit indulgent and that was everything he needed to quash down his refusal to involve the Scot into their internal affairs. As if reading his every thought, Lucius smirked and Severus merely hardened his expression, refusing to show his true feelings.

“It is settled then, Your Highness. You have every right to assist us in any way you wish.” The King announced.

               She inclined her head slowly, savouring her victory. The devilish glint in her eyes suggests that there is no doubt that she would use any means possible to prove to the Court that a snake slithered inside this intricate garden of politics. If he wanted to play, she will play and it will end with her prey in between her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter featuring one of my most hated characters is Harry Potter, Zacharias Smith. I can't believe that I made him a Prince here but, there is no one I hate much more than him in the series, well, he's next to Umbridge but, he's still as much of a swine as she is. Anyway, some ominous plot is going on. What do you guys think is Zacharias is up to? Give me your thoughts, reactions, anything! I would love to read what you guys think of the story so far. Oh yeah, for a bit of a spoiler, Harry's involvement in this story will be coming soon. I promise that it will be as epic as it can get. He'll be totally Slytherin in this story which I think is super sexy and rousing. Hahahaha. But, seriously, I think Harry can rock the bad-boy vibe. What do you guys think? 
> 
> Love, love, love,  
> cappucakku

**Author's Note:**

> Hulloooo! This is my new story which is an AU of Harry Potter with Pansy as my main character! I'm getting tired of reading fanfictions with Pansy as an irritating side-character pining over Draco so, I made a historical fiction inspired by Reign (the T.V. series, I fell in love with it and I totes ship Bash/Mary so, for those who ship Francis/Mary, so sorry~) with Pansy as the next Queen of Scotland. At one point she would be her annoying self but, rest assured, she will be bad ass most of the time so, you guys won't be annoyed with her. For some who are an avid fan of historical facts, I will tell you now that my story is in no way in line with history so, if you can't live with that then, I'm sorry but, if you can then, you are most welcome here! Anyway, I just want to say welcome to Princess Pansy's Peckish Problems! I hope you guys like it! I hope you guys rate and review because I sooooo love reading comments as well as criticisms for my work. Also, I will shamelessly advertise my other fanfiction here which is called XOXO, Ms. A. It's a Gakuen Alice story and if you guys are into school drama and complicated romances then, my story is worth a shot! Before I forget, this story will have a sporadic update because I'm still preparing for my move to LA so, please bare with me!
> 
> Love, love, love,
> 
> cappucakku


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